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BERKELEY  LIBRARY 


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Going  and  Coming 


as  a 


Doughboy 


CJi* 


Going  and  Coming 


as  a 


Doughboy 


By  ELMER  H.  CURTISS 
Formerly  of  Company  K,  161st  Infantry,  Sunset  Division 

and 
Company  H,  102nd  Infantry,  Yankee  Division 


Copyright  Applied  for  September  25, 1920,  by 
ELMER  H.  CURTISS 


PRESS  OF 

F.  A.  STUART  <i^^»  THE  PRINTER 
PALO  ALTO.  CALIFORNIA 


4286GO 


ELMER  H.  CURTISS 

Formerly  of  Company  K,  161st  Infantry,  Sunset  Division 
and  Company  H,  102nd  Infantry,  Yankee  Division 


Going  and  Coming  as  a  Doughboy 


;ITH  a  suitcase  well  packed  with  things  I  expected  to 
need  on  the  journey  I  left  San  Francisco  for  Kaiser 
Bill's  dugout  November  3,  1917.  I  stepped  off  the 
train  at  Camp  Lewis  exactly  three  days  later.  We 
spent  that  day  answering  to  roll  call,  getting  a 
physical  examination,  assignment  to  quarters,  lis- 
tening to  instructions  on  army  life,  standing  in  line  to  get  our 
equipment,  and  sending  our  civilian  clothes  home. 

We  were  called  out  at  5 : 45"^  the  nexH  morning  for  our  first 
reveille,  and  lined  up  for  exercise  aV  5  :30.  The  morning  was 
bitter  cold.  After  breakfast  we  drilled  for  four  hours.  We 
hiked  three  miles  after  dinner  to  get  a  thorough  physical  exami- 
nation and  our  first  typhoid  innoculation.  My  arm  was  very 
sore,  and  two  men  fainted  near  me.  Out  of  40,000  men  in  the  camp 
700  of  us  were  picked  to  start  to  Camp  Mills  the  next  afteroon. 
As  our  sixteen-car  train  passed  through  Seattle  we  shook 
hands  with  hundreds  of  pretty  girls  who  swarmed  along  the 
sides  of  the  train.  We  took  a  run  in  Spokane  the  next  morning. 
At  Troy,  Montana,  the  people  turned  out  with  fruit  and  candy. 
Minot,  North  Dakota,  met  us  at  11  o'clock  at  night  with  hot 
coffee  and  a  regular  banquet,  anything  almost  that  we  wanted. 
We  paraded  in  Minneapolis  for  the  exercise.  This  stunt  was 
repeated  at  St.  Thomas,  Ontario,  and  at  Niagara  Falls,  where 
we  crossed  over  to  the  American  side. 

At  Camp  Mills  I  was  assigned  to  Co.  K,  161  Infantry,  made 
up  mostly  of  the  Washington  National  Guard.  My  first  task 
was  carrying  wood  for  the  kitchen.  This  work  was  interrupted 
frequently  by  drill  calls,  various  shots  in  the  arm,  or  some  kind 
of  an  inspection.  Our  quarters  were  squad  tents.  The  assign- 
ments of  ten  men  to  a  tent  made  moving  around  difficult. 

In  the  morning  we  were  given  only  five  minutes  to  dress  in  the 
bitter  cold.  We  were  immediately  given  some  vigorous  exer- 
cise which  would  warm  us  a  little.  We  then  went  to  the  mess 
kitchen,  drew  our  rations  and  ate  them  out  in  the  open  in  front 
of  our  tents.  We  were  taught  not  to  throw  anything:  away,  and 
encouraged  to  obey  this  rule  by  the  guard  posted  over  the 
garbage  can. 

An  officer  told  us  all  about  the  advantages  of  War  Risk  In- 
surance and  I  took  the  limit,  $10,000,  which  cost  me  $6.70  a 
month.  I  received  my  second  shot  in  the  arm  immediately  after 
signing  for  my  insurance. 

We  received  rifles  and  ten  rounds  of  ammunition  November 
22.  That  day  I  walked  three  miles  to  a  hotel  and  got  a  bath. 
There  was  no  charge  for  soldiers  who  furnished  their  own  soap 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


and  towel.  I  washed  out  a  pair  of  sox  and  hung  them  under 
my  bed  to  dry.  They  were  frozen  the  next  morning.  After 
that  I  got  up  every  morning  at  2:30  and  started  a  fire  to  keep 
from  freezing. 

I  spent  Thanksgiving  in  New  York.  My  ticket  cost  me  $1.20. 
That  left  me  30c  for  candy.  The  next  day  we  hiked  15  miles, 
carrying  our  rifles.  It  was  chow  time  when  we  got  back  and 
we  lost  no  time  scampering  to  the  mess  hall.  The  next  day  we 
practised  squad  and  platoon  drill  in  our  company  street.  A 
large  blister  on  my  left  heel  kept  me  wide  awake  all  the  time. 

At  night  we  usually  chipped  in  and  bought  a  pie  or  two  and 
sat  around  swapping  yarns.  One  night  a  sailor  who  had  just  re- 
turned on  a  ship  which  had  carried  officers  to  Engrland  spent 
the  night  in  our  tent. 

My  squad  was  on  fatigue  in  December.  We  did  all  kinds  of 
work  around  camp,  including  K.  P.  The  marking  of  our  cloth- 
ing at  this  time  led  us  to  believe  we  would  be  leaving  shortly. 
We  worked  for  several  days  on  a  large  ditch  to  carrv  off  storm 
water. 

When  the  wood  supply  in  our  tent  was  exhausted  we  organ- 
ized a  foraging  party  and  came  back  loaded  in  no  time.  Then 
we  made  a  fire  that  would  have  warmed  up  the  DeVil  himself. 

I  received  my  4th  shot  in  the  arm  early  in  December.  The 
Q.M.  was  busy  boxing  all  supplies  and  material  on  hand.  I  be- 
gan breaking  in  my  trench  shoes,  and  my  sox,  which  were 
about  a  quarter  of  an  inch  thick,  never  kept  my  feet  warm. 

One  of  the  boys  in  my  tent  was  sick,  and  we  were  out  under 
quarantine.  The  doctor  never  even  came  to  see  the  fellow  to  see 
what  was  the  matter.  That  night  I  washed  a  suit  of  underwear 
and  dried  it  in  front  of  the  stove.  We  sat  around  the  next  day 
raising  Cain,  picking  dust  out  of  the  air,  and  waiting  for  Saw- 
bones to  inspect  us. 

I  had  an  awful  appetite  the  next  day.  I  made  seconds  on  the 
stew,  hot  prunes,  and  coffee,  and  put  away  7  slices  of  bread. 
Snow  the  next  day  was  followed  by  rain  and  a  young  cyclone 
which  kept  all  hands  holding  the  tent  down.  There  was  a  bread 
shortage  the  next  day,  and  we  bought  a  15  cent  loaf  for  the 
bunch. 

December  llth  we  packed  everything  in  our  barracks  bags  and 
shipped  them  ahead.  We  emptied  the  straw  out  of  our  ticks, 
turned  in  our  cots,  and  had  nothing  to  sleep  on  for  two  nights. 
We  stood  in  line  four  hours  on  the  dock  in  Hoboken  before  we 
were  checked  off  and  allowed  to  board  the  "President  Lincoln/* 
which  was  a  former  Boche  freighter  taken  over  by  the  govern- 
ment and  converted  into  a  transport. 

After  we  had  found  our  bunks  on  the  third  deck  I  managed  to 
get  a  few  lines  started  to  the  home  folks  by  way  of  the  tug  which 
drew  up  alongside  after  we  left  the  harbor.  After  lying  at 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


anchor  for  two  days  we  started  across  via  the  long  southern  route 
in  order  to  avoid  submarines  and  icebergs.  I  was  glad  to  get 
my  feet  on  solid  ground  again  after  eighteen  days  at  sea  and 
two  more  at  anchor  outside  of  Brest. 

We  were  taken  off  in  lighters  and  marched  immediately  to 
the  train.  Here  we  had  our  first  glimpse  of  German  prisoners 
of  war  loading  coal  under  guard.  At  first  glance  the  French 
freight  cars  seemed  about  the  size  of  a  match  box  and  capable 
of  holding  about  a  dozen  men,  but  by  the  time  they  called  our 
car  loaded  there  were  forty-two  of  us  packed  into  the  car  like 
sardines. 

It  was  the  last  day  of  the  old  year.  We  feasted  on  corned 
Willy  and  trench  pastry,  called  hard  tack  in  the  history  books. 
Sleep  was  out  of  the  question.  We  swapped  yarns  instead  of 
throwing  confetti  and  blowing  horns  as  we  stood  there  in  the 
swaying  car,  so  close  that  when  one  man  moved  the  whole 
crowd  moved. 

Our  first  stop  was  for  two  days.  We  were  lucky  enough  to 
get  a  little  straw  on  which  to  spread  our  blankets  out  under  the 
stars.  Then  we  were  shipped  on  to  Mehon  where  we  unloaded 
our  packs.  My  squad  was  detailed  to  handle  the  supplies.  We 
were  glad,  for  it  saved  us  a  long  hike  and  we  were  very  tired. 
As  we  rode  along  that  five  miles  of  ice-covered  road  I  thought 
the  truck  would  skid  off  the  road  every  minute. 

The  coffee  served  to  us  by  the  French  was  stronger  than  Atlas 
with  no  sugar  nor  milk. 

January  12th  it  rained  all  night,  melting  the  snow,  and  the 
next  morning  we  started  building  railroads.  The  hardest  part 
of  this  work  was  lifting  the  steel  rails  and  ties  soaked  in  water. 

I  received  my  first  pay  January  25th,  amounting  to  264  francs. 
I  started  200  francs  for  home  in  the  first  mail.  The  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
had  just  completed  a  splendid  building  containing  a  stage,  pool 
tables,  reading  and  writing  tables,  best  of  all  a  canteen  where 
we  could  buy  a  number  of  articles. 

January  29th  I  received  a  package  from  home  containing  some 
oil  of  wintergreen  which  helped  a  cold  I  had  been  unable  to 
break  up.  We  had  to  get  up  at  5  :45  and  be  out  at  6  for  fifteen 
minutes  exercise.  By  this  time  we  had  finished  our  mess  hall 
and  no  longer  had  to  eat  out  in  the  open  where  we  were  always 
cold. 

February  6th  a  man  was  discovered  in  my  company  who  had 
been  sent  over  by  mistake.  It  seems  that  he  had  a  wife  and  one 
child  dependent  upon  him  for  support. 

We  had  a  hard  time  getting  used  to  French  time.  1  p.m.  with 
them  is  13  o'clock,  2  p.  m.  14  o'clock,  etc. 

February  9th  I  received  a  box  containing  fruit  cake,  peanut 
candy,  nigger  toes,  and  a  pair  of  gloves  from  my  father.  I 
managed  to  get  a  pass  to  town  Sunday.  Joan  of  Arc  lived  there 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


at  Mehon  for  some  time,  part  of  the  time  in  a  large  tower  200 
feet  high.  We  paid  the  woman  at  the  entrance  15  sous  and  were 
permitted  to  climb  to  the  top  of  the  tower  from  which  we 
could  see  the  level  country  stretching  away  for  miles  on  every 
side.  We  could  see  one  of  the  numerous  French  freight  canals 
running  through  the  village. 

We  visited  the  dungeon  where  political  prisoners  were  kept, 
and  then  went  over  to  a  very  beautiful  church.  We  could  not 
see  much  of  the  church,  as  services  were  being  held  just  then, 
so  we  left  in  a  few  minutes  and  went  to  a  French  cafe,  where  we 
ordered  eggs,  potatoes,  bread,  butter,  and  wine. 

Our  next  stop  was  at  a  photograph  shop,  where  we  went 
through  the  agony  of  posing  for  a  picture.  The  price  was  8 
francs  for  a  dozen  to  be  finished  within  a  week. 

After  the  railroad  was  completed  we  built  three  warehouses 
for  storing  ammunition,  1000  feet  long  and  100  feet  wide.  My 
company  unloaded  a  string  of  forty  cars  in  one  night.  Each  car 
contained  an  average  of  140  boxes  of  French  75  shells,  six  to  a 
box.  These  were  used  principally  in  shooting  at  aeroplanes  or 
for  barrages  in  small  attacks.  We  had  to  work  fast  to  keep 
warm. 

February  21st  I  was  paid  64  francs,  and  I  sent  some  more 
money  home.  I  was  doing  guard  duty  at  the  warehouses,  four 
hours  on  and  eight  off.  We  had  to  walk  two  miles  to  get  to 
our  posts.  It  took  me  fifteen  minutes  to  make  the  rounds. 
When  relieved  we  spent  our  time  sleeping  or  talking.  There 
were  five  of  us  together,  so  we  did  not  get  lonesome. 

One  day  I  was  put  on  what  we  called  the  "Cossack  Post."  We 
had  a  tent  full  of  dynamite  and  blasting  powder  for  the  en- 
gineers. It  was  placed  out  in  a  large  open  field.  We  had  to 
walk  around  and  around  this  tent  all  night,  with  fixed  bayonets. 
I  solved  the  problem  by  getting  a  box  on  which  I  could  sit 
down  when  I  got  tired.  I  placed  it  where  I  could  spot  any 
one  immediately  who  tried  to  sneak  up  on  me. 

I  received  my  photos  February  28th.  Gas  masks  had  just 
been  issued  to  us,  and  we  certainly  looked  like  monkeys.  -I 
thought  for  a  while  that  the  weight  of  my  steel  derby  would 
dislocate  my  neck. 

When  orders  came  for  us  to  move  we  packed  up  our  belong- 
ings and  boarded  a  train  of  third  class  coaches,  eight  men  to  a 
compartment.  The  train  stopped  at  the  first  village,  where  I 
gave  a  Frenchman  ten  francs  to  get  us  some  nuts.  He  came 
back  with  about  a  bushel,  which  soon  disappeared. 

After  a  long  ride  we  were  unloaded  and  drilled  a  while  in  a 
large  field.  Few  of  us  had  any  idea  what  was  coming,  as  the 
officers  would  not  tell  us  anything.  Two  days  travel  landed 
us  at  Men  La  Tour,  the  supply  base  for  the  Toul  front,  about 
eight  miles  back  of  the  lines. 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


We  could  hear  the  roar  of  the  guns  and  we  could  also  see  an 
occasional  flash  on  Mont  Sec  where  the  French  lost  35,000  men 
in  half  an  hour  trying  to  hold  the  death  trap  after  they  captured 
it  from  the  Germans.  We  had  men  up  in  observation  balloons 
so  high  that  they  could  see  everything  that  was  going  on  and 
could  direct  our  artillery  fire.  Now  and  then  they  were  at- 
tacked by  Boche  planes.  If  the  Boche  got  close  enough  under 
cover  of  a  cloud  to  set  fire  to  the  balloon  the  observer  had  to 
come  down  in  a  parachute. 

After  a  hike  along  a  muddy  road  we  found  our  quarters  in 
the  woods  about  nightfall.  We  piled  our  packs  and  rifles  on 
the  mud  and  unloaded  our  supplies  which  had  to  be  carried  a 
considerable  distance  to  our  mess  kitchen.  Every  one  helped, 
and  the  job  was  soon  finished.  We  had  the  time  of  our  lives 
trying  to  locate  our  packs  in  the  darkness  as  no  lights  were 
allowed.  The  barracks  which  were  to  be  ours  for  a  few  days 
were  not  yet  completed  and  were  also  filled  with  snow.  I  found 
a  thick  coating  of  ice  on  my  bunk,  but  I  was  so  tired  that  I  had 
no  trouble  sleeping  until  the  bugler  got  started  at  5.45. 

It  took  us  two  days  to  finish  the  roofs  on  the  barracks  and 
install  some  stoves  which  warmed  them  a  little.  The  mud, 
however,  remained  very  much  the  same.  Our  shoes  frequently 
sank  to  the  tops. 

The  Germans  sent  enough  shells  over  to  keep  us  on  the  watch 
for  gas.  While  on  guard  we  had  to  be  especially  watchful,  chal- 
lenging every  one.  When  the  gas  alarm  sounded  we  were  to 
run  through  the  barracks  and  give  the  alarm.  One  morning 
while  I  was  sleeping  the  guard  gave  the  alarm  and  we  had  to 
wear  our  masks  for  two  and  one  half  hours  before  we  could 
take  them  off.  The  gas  sergeant  went  back  and  forth  and  nab- 
bed any  one  who  took  off  his  mask.  The  punishment  was  walk- 
ing around  wearing  our  masks  three  or  four  hours  the  next  day 
under  guard,  so  we  kept  them  on  as  ordered. 

My  company  was  put  at  work  digging  trenches  six  feet  deep 
for  telephone  cables.  Overhead  or  surface  lines  were  not  a 
success,  as  even  the  concussion  of  the  bursting  shells  seemed 
to  cut  the  wires.  We  usually  laid  four  one  inch  cables  in  each 
trench.  We  passed  through  several  villages,  until  we  reached 
Beaumont.  We  had  been  under  shell  fire  every  day,  and  it  was 
particularly  intense  here,  where  they  gave  us  gas  every  night, 
and  we  kept  our  masks  at  alert  all  the  time.  After  the  slightest 
warning  of  the  gas  guard  we  would  all  be  masked  in  six  seconds. 

A  Klaxon  horn  which  could  be  heard  for  miles  was  the  gas 
alarm  most  popular  with  us.  The  French  sometimes  used 
church  bells.  One  Chinaman  in  my  company  had  such  a  broad 
flat  nose  that  the  nose  clip  on  the  American  mask  would  not 
fit.  He  used  a  French  mask  which  slipped  over  his  whole  face, 
so  that  he  breathed  through  medicated  gauze. 


8  GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


We  were  the  constant  targets  of  Boche  snipers  who  were 
watching  for  a  chance  to  pick  us  off.  One  night  a  Boche  drop- 
ped two  bombs  near  us  from  a  plane.  We  knew  it  was  a  Boche 
by  the  peculiar  hum  of  the  German  motors.  The  explosions 
shook  us  up  considerably,  but  we  could  not  find  where  the  bombs 
fell  the  next  day. 

March  9th  we  set  our  clocks  and  watches  ahead  an  hour,  and 
we  found  the  mornings  a  little  darker  and  much  colder  for  a 
while.  Our  vigorous  exercises  always  warmed  us  up  consider- 
ably, however.  I  had  my  hair  clipped  close,  and  my  head  felt 
much  cooler  in  the  heat  of  the  day. 

There  were  two  dangerous  places  near  us.  We  crossed  one 
place  called  Hell's  Half  Acre.  Another  place  was  called  Dead 
Man's  Curve.  It  was  a  good  name,  for  the  Boche  had  a  good 
view  of  that  bit  of  road  and  were  ready  with  their  shells  every 
time  anything  passed  in  the  daytime,  and  they  shelled  it  con- 
tinually at  night. 

We  were  sorry  to  hear  of  the  sinking  of  the  ship  which 
brought  us  over.  It  was  homeward  bound,  so  few  lives  were 
lost. 

While  we  were  out  working  an  aeroplane  was  hit  by  shrapnel 
which  damaged  the  propellor  and  the  wings.  It  landed  near 
us,  and  we  went  over  and  took  a  look  at  it  at  lunch  time.  We 
were  careful  to  remain  at  a  respectful  distance,  as  we  were 
afraid  the  Germans  might  use  the  plane  as  a  target. 

Constant  rain  made  each  day  like  the  last.  The  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
established  branches  in  our  vicinity  where  we  could  buy  a  few 
things,  write  letters,  have  some  music,  which  we  all  enjoyed, 
or  play  a  game  of  checkers. 

We  all  had  to  go  into  a  gas  tester  for  five  minutes.  After 
trying  our  masks  for  the  length  of  time  we  had  to  take  them 
off  and  take  a  whiff  of  the;  gas  so  that  we  would  be  able  to  re- 
cognize it  during  an  attack.  The  tear  gas  made  my  eyes  watery 
for  a  long  time. 

April  16th,  while  we  were  working  at  our  ditch  job,  shells 
began  dropping  mighty  close.  We  all  Jumped  into  the  ditch 
and  wished  It  was  six  feet  deeper  for  a  while. 

I  slipped  in  the  dark  the  night  of  April  19th  and  cut  a  painful 
gash  in  my  knee  cap.  Then  my  luck  turned.  I  found  a  ten 
franc  note  which  came  in  mighty  handy  as  I  happened  to  be 
financially  embarrassed.  Then  a  box  of  candy  arrived  from 
home.  Nothing  ever  tasted  better.  . 

While  I  was  wondering  how  I  could  manage  to  get  a  photo- 
graph of  myself  and  all  my  equipment  up  there  under  shell  fire 
I  discovered  a  French  artilleryman  billetted  in  the  woods  near 
by  who  had  a  special  permit  from  the  French  government  for 
doing  this  kind  of  work.  I  finally  made  him  understand  what 
I  wanted  by  making  an  initial  payment  of  tobacco,  of  which  I 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


had  a  good  supply  as  I  seldom  smoked.  I  paid  him  eight 
francs  for  a  dozen  pictures. 

I  received  128  francs  for  February  and  March.  The  govern- 
ment commissary  truck  came  around  to  us  every  other  day,  so 
that  we  could  buy  all  the  cakes,  tobacco  and  candy  we  wanted, 
and  best  of  all,  canned  fruit,  which  drew  many  a  franc  from 
my  pocket.  It  helped  to  keep  me  healthy,  and  some  of  the 
pies  I  got  by  taking  a  big  can  to  the  mess  kitchen  were  cer- 
tainly great.  Of  course  the  cook  got  his  share,  but  they  were 
worth  it. 

Prices  were  very  reasonable,  only  a  little  above  cost.  A  large 
can  of  peaches  cost  one  and  one  half  francs  or  thirty  cents.  Soda 
crackers  were  thirty  centimes  or  six  cents  a  carton. 

April  27th  orders  were  issued  prohibiting  the  people  at  home 
sending  packages  to  us,  in  order  to  make  room  for  ammunition 
and  other  necessary  supplies.  I  sold  a  watch  that  refused  to 
run  for  seventeen  francs.  I  have  never  seen  the  man  since, 
so  I  supose  he  and  the  watch  are  still  going. 

We  tore  down  our  barracks  and  moved  up  through  the  woods 
to  a  position  close  behind  some  of  our  big  guns  which  were 
firing  at  Metz.  How  the  ground  did  rock !  I  had  a  tremendous 
appetite  and  seldom  got  enough  to  eat.  I  ate  heartily,  but  I 
was  still  hungry  after  many  of  my  meals.  I  ate  canned  apri- 
cots when  I  could  get  them,  and  the  mess  sergeant  let  me  fry 
eggs  in  my  mess  kit.  I  bought  them  in  a  village  near  by.  The 
day  we  moved  I  received  a  large  supply  of  envelopes,  enough 
to  last  me  until  I  might  have  a  chance  to  ask  the  Kaiser  for 
some. 

I  received  a  card  from  Washington  acknowledging  the  re- 
ceipt of  my  application  for  insurance.  While  the  third  Liberty 
Loan  was  in  full  swing  I  suggested  that  any  one  owing 
the  Kaiser  some  money  might  make  him  happy  by  sending  him 
a  bond. 

Butter  was  worth  six  francs  a  pound,  eggs  cost  four  francs, 
sugar  could  not  be  had  at  any  price,  but  my  bunkie  and  I  man- 
aged to  get  a  dandy  peach  pie.  We  had  general  inspection  Sat- 
urday morning  of  all  our  equipment,  including  rifles,  beds,  sox, 
underwear,  blankets,  towel,  soap,  tooth  paste,  brush,  comb,  and 
razor.  Sunday  they  let  us  sleep  till  7:45,  a  real  treat  to  us 
tired  boys. 

We  were  getting  more  and  more  accustomed  to  the  hardships, 
but  most  of  us  had  decided  to  postpone  our  immediate  return 
home,  as  the  Kaiser  seemed  to  be  deeper  in  than  many  of  us  had 
thought.  The  next  day  we  had  a  terrible  thunderstorm  and  the 
heaviest  rain  we  had  seen  for  weeks. 

Mail  call  after  lunch  May  9th  came  while  I  was  lying  down 
resting  a  while,  but  I  was  up  and  after  it  as  usual,  and  was  re- 
warded by  six  letters.  We  all  wrote  home  Mother'  Day.  We 


10  GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


had  all  been  urged  to  do  so,  but  I  needed  no  encouragement. 
The  boys  kept  the  graphaphone  in  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  running 
ragged. 

We  had  a  ball  team  and  we  played  many  a  hot  game  with 
the  23rd  Engineers  who  were  billetted  in  the  woods  close  by, 
and  with  the  observation  balloon  men,  who  found  time,  once 
in  a  while  for  a  game. 

I  sent  my  mother  congratulations  for  her  birthday  coming  in 
July,  telling  her  I  was  sorry  I  could  not  be  at  home  that  day,  that 
we  were  moving  all  the  time  from  one  place  to  another,  and 
that  it  seemed  just  like  beating  it  out  of  rooming  houses  without 
paying  rent. 

I  had  so  much  trouble  keeping  my  rifle  clean  that  I  made  a 
case  for  it.  I  had  to  spend  a  lot  of  time  cleaning  it,  for  I  did  not 
like  the  idea  of  getting  any  extra  duty  for  having  a  dirty  rifle. 
The  least  speck  of  dust  was  considered  grounds  for  a  "bawling- 
out"  before  the  whole  company.  At  the  same  time  my  gun 
was  always  ready  for  any  emergency. 

One  morning  while  my  company  was  going  to  work  we  were 
turned  back  by  some  Military  Police  who  said  the  Boche  had 
broken  through  the  lines  and  were  attacking  the  village  of 
Sicheprey.  The  Americans  in  the  village  were  outnumbered, 
but  they  held  on  stubbornly  while  we  went  back  to  our  barracks 
in  the  woods,  where  we  wasted  no  time  getting  our  rifles  and 
ammunition.  We  were  lined  up  and  given  instructions  in  range 
rinding  and  handling  ammunition.  We  were  even  shown  how 
to  eject  the  empty  shells  from  our  rifles.  The  Boche  soon  hit 
the  back  trail,  after  a  sharp  fight  at  close  quarters,  with  ma- 
chine guns,  rifles,  and  bayonets.  Both  sides  lost  heavily. 

I  was  put  on  K.  P.  duty  May  16th.  After  a  day  of  scraping 
kettles,  peeling  spuds,  and  serving  chow  my  pal  and  I  got  passes 
to  the  village.  A  long  walk  took  us  to  a  small  restaurant  near 
Men  La  Tour,  where  we  feasted  on  scrambled  eggs,  fried  pota- 
toes, and  lemonade  which  seemed  to  have  considerable  kick. 
We  managed  to  make  known  our  wants  with  the  few  French 
words  we  knew,  aided  by  gestures.  Beer  signs  were  scarcer 
than  hen's  teeth,  and  with  all  our  rubbernecking  we  failed  to 
locate  one. 

The  Y.  M.  C.  A.  tent  in  Aunseville  was  hit  by  a  shell  which 
partly  demolished  it,  luckily  at  night  after  the  canteen  was 
closed.  I  will  never  forget  that  place  nor  the  three  cups  of 
hot  chocolate  I  drank  there  one  bitter  cold  day  while  the  snow 
was  still  on  the  ground.  A  few  boys  just  back  from  the  front 
were  sitting  there  eating  cakes  or  whatever  they  could  buy.  I 
sat  down  and  asked  them  a  few  questions  so  I  would  know  what 
to  do  if  I  was  rushed  up  front  in  an  emergency. 

Two  spies  were  caught  in  our  vicinity.  One  Boche  at  Mandre 
dressed  himself  as  a  peasant  woman  and  went  around  leading  a 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY  11 


cow.  When  a  bunch  of  soldiers  were  passing  the  cross  roads 
he  would  signal  with  his  rope,  and  the  Boche  gunners  made  a 
good  many  hits  until  a  French  officer  saw  a  trouser  leg  one 
windy  day.  The  firing  party  was  on  the  job  in  about  two 
minutes. 

The  Boche  had  a  young  French  boy  perched  in  the  garret  of 
an  old  abandoned  stone  house.  When  supply  wagons,  ammuni- 
tion carts,  or  troops  were  passing  a  certain  point  the  boy  signal- 
ed with  a  pocket  flashlight  until  the  French  caught  him. 

May  22nd  we  were  treated  to  a  band  concert  under  shell  fire. 
The  music  sounded  mighty  good  to  us.  The  flies  were  getting 
thick,  and  increased  our  discomfort  considerably.  The  whole 
country  was  green  by  this  time,  and  the  birds  never  stopped 
chirping  throughout  the  night.  We  wondered  if  the  shell  fire 
kept  them  awake.  I  slept  whenever  I  got  the  chance,  for  I 
never  knew  what  night  I  would  be  wakened  by  a  gas  alarm  or 
shell  fire. 

As  I  was  going  to  town  to  the  dentist  I  saw  several  old  French 
people  busy  in  the  fields.  One  old  man  was  plowing  with  a 
donkey,  a  horse,  and  old  Nellie,  the  family  cow — a  queer  com- 
bination. 

Orders  came  for  another  move  May  29th.  After  packing  our 
belongings  and  wrecking  our  barracks  we  loaded  everything  on 
trucks,  rode  four  miles,  and  were  then  given  until  nightfall  to 
erect  them  again.  We  got  the  mess  hall  busy  first,  and  then  had 
our  shelter  all  complete  before  dark. 

Then  orders  arrived  to  break  up  our  company  and  use  it  for 
replacements.  We  hiked  twelve  kilos  to  Men  La  Tour,  on  the 
Toul  front,  where  we  were  billetted  in  what  had  once  been  the 
Red  Cross  hospital.  The  patients  had  all  been  moved  back  to 
a  base  hospital,  following  a  threat  by  the  Boche  to  bomb  the 
place.  We  were  glad  to  get  away  from  there. 

We  spent  June  1st  turning  in  all  excess  baggage  to  the  Quart- 
ermaster. The  next  day  I  landed  a  K.  P.  job.  The  mess  ser- 
geant was  trying  hard  to  spend  our  mess  fund,  and  we  had 
meat,  potatoes,  salad,  olives,  jam,  gravy,  lemonade,  and  bread. 
The  time  of  our  feasting  was  short,  for  we  had  our  last  roll 
call  June  5th.  Our  officers  and  friends  shook  hands  with  us 
and  bade  us  good  luck.  With  the  cheers  of  a  few  non-com- 
missioned officers  who  were  left  behind  ringing  in  our  ears,  we 
boarded  a  string  of  little  flat  cars  and  pulled  out  on  the  narrow 
gauge  railroad  to  Bouc  where  we  were  given  the  choice  of  four 
companies. 

I  chose  Co.  H.  102nd  Infantry,  in  the  26th  or  Yankee  Divis- 
ion. We  lined  up  for  chow,  consisting  of  a  little  soup,  bread 
and  coffee,  rested  a  little  while,  and  then  started  off  on  a  forced 
march  of  about  15  kilos.  We  carried  all  our  equipment,  and 
the  new  rock  surface  on  the  road  made  walking  far  from  easy. 


12  GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


For  hours  I  felt  like  dropping  with  fatigue,  but  I  stuck  it  out. 
When  we  entered  an  old  stone  building  at  2  a.  m.  and  threw 
our  packs  on  the  ground  I  was  all  ready  to  join  the  all  down 
and  out  club,  and  for  once  I  paid  no  attention  to  the  shells  flying 
overhead. 

The  building  was  half  wrecked  already  by  shells,  which  had 
nearly  demolished  the  whole  village.  Mandre  had  a  population 
of  1000  before  the  war,  but  every  one  had  been  driven  out  at  the 
beginning.  I  needed  no  second  invitation  to  hunt  up  the  mess 
kitchen  the  next  morning.  It  was  camouflaged  in  an  old  stone 
building  in  order  to  hide  the  smoke  in  the  daytime,  for  the 
Boche  shelled  the  place  at  the  slightest  sign  of  life  or  activity. 

The  town  was  full  of  dugouts.  Signs  were  posted  telling  how 
many  men  they  would  hold,  and  their  location,  so  that  we  would 
know  just  where  to  go  in  case  of  an  attack.  We  saw  air  bat- 
tles or  enemy  planes  every  day,  coming  over  in  search  of  in- 
formation and  taking  pictures  of  the  village. 

I  sold  a  lot  of  stuff  that  I  did  not  need,  keeping  one  extra 
suit  of  underclothes,  two  blankets,  two  pairs  of  sox,  a  towel,  a 
shaving  outfit,  and  my  reserve  rations,  consisting  of  four  boxes 
of  hard  tack  and  one  can  of  beef. 

After  a  few  days  we  were  moved  to  a  part  of  the  town  which 
drew  less  shell  fire  and  quartered  in  an  attic  reached  only  by 
a  very  shaky  ladder.  I  made  a  bed  out  of  grass  which  was  plenti- 
ful everywhere.  I  went  out  in  several  working  parties  at  night,, 
fixing  barbed  wire  entanglements  in  front  of  our  lines. 

The  Salvation  Army  maintained  a  canteen  in  what  had  been 
a  dungeon  under  a  church.  Only  an  expert  could  locate  the 
entrance  among  the  debris.  When  I  stood  up  straight  my  head 
struck  the  ceiling.  A  few  planks  here  and  there  helped  to  keep 
our  feet  out  of  the  water  which  covered  the  floor.  Most  of  the 
time  we  could  buy  eggs  in  the  canteen.  We  fried  them  on  a 
dinky  little  stove  and  ate  them  with  slices  of  bread  furnished 
by  the  army.  We  just  grabbed  a  loaf  and  cut  off  a  slice  when- 
ever we  were  hungry.  Occasionally  we  were  able  to  buy  six 
doughnuts  for  a  franc. 

A  big  gun  located  near  our  billet  kept  me  awake  a  good  many 
hours.  I  kept  well  and  as  clean  as  possible.  We  bathed  in 
the  town  wash  house  which  had  a  large  shell  hole  through  the 
roof.  We  were  glad  we  were  absent  when  the  hole  was  made. 

We  assembled  our  squads  in  front  of  our  billets  at  9  a.  m. 
the  night  of  June  16th  and  started  for  the  trenches.  The  village 
was  under  heavy  shell  fire,  and  we  crept  from  building  to  build- 
ing. The  team  drawing  an  ammunition  cart  was  frightened  by 
a  bursting  shell  and  ran  away,  with  the  driver  doing  his  utmost 
to  stop  them.  Outside  the  village  we  marched  along  a  shell 
lit  road,  used  by  all  kinds  of  traffic  on  the  way  to  our  front 
lines. 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY  13 


Our  batteries  were  busy  giving  the  Boche  three  for  one.  They 
were  so  well  camouflaged  that  detection  was  almost  impossible, 
even  in  the  daytime,  when  the  Boche  observation  balloons  were 
up,  and  when  our  guns  were  put  out  of  commission  it  was  only 
by  a  chance  hit. 

We  passed  the  dangerous  points  in  safety,  and  made  our  way 
to  our  position,  known  as  "Jerry  Woods."  We  could  barely  see 
our  hands  in  front  of  us  in  the  darkness.  Now  and  then  some 
one  would  stumble  into  a  shell  hole,  pick  himself  up  with  a 
grunt,  and  drop  into  line  again.  The  rainfall  had  made  the 
going  very  slippery,  and  I  had  hard  work  keeping  up.  I  did  not 
want  to  get  lost  from  the  others  as  my  eyesight  was  very  poor. 

At  last  fourteen  of  us  entered  a  dugout,  where  we  lay  down  on 
the  straw.  I  was  introduced  to  my  first  cooties  a  few  minutes 
later.  I  staged  a  big  game  hunt  the  first  thing  in  the  morning, 
and  captured  a  dozen  graybacks.  It  took  100  to  buy  a  cigar,  but 
[  did  not  give  up  hope.  The  rats  made  life  interesting,  too. 
We  had  to  stand  guard  over  our  hard  tack,  and  it  was  a  race  to 
see  which  of  us  would  get  to  eat  it.  The  woods  were  full  of 
them  at  night. 

Every  night  for  a  week  I  went  out  into  No  Man's  Land  with 
nine  others.  We  carried  rifles  and  three  or  four  hand  grenades. 
We  were  prepared  to  give  a  good  account  of  ourselves  if  we 
ran  into  a  Boche  patrol,  for  the  grenades  exploded  in  five  seconds 
after  we  hit  the  cap,  and  it  was  regarded  as  a  healthy  practise  to 
throw  them  immediately.  Our  rounds  took  us  past  the  listening 
posts.  In  some  places  the  trenches  had  been  flattened  so  that 
we  had  to  crawl  in  the  open  where  we  could  be  seen  by  the 
light  of  the  Boche  flares,  which  revealed  everything  for  hundreds 
of  yards. 

By  throwing  ourselves  flat  on  the  ground  we  managed  to 
escape  detection  and  made  our  way  through  the  winding 
trenches  to  the  farthest  outposts  known  as  the  "sacrifice  post." 
The  machine  gunners  here  kept  very  quiet,  listening  for  sounds 
of  activity  or  attempted  raids.  A  few  of  those  machine  gun- 
ners could  hold  off  an  army,  for  they  could  cut  advancing  troops 
down  as  fast  as  they  appeared. 

Later  five  of  us  were  assigned  to  a  listening  post  in  charge  of 
a  corporal.  Two  men  were  posted  on  the  parapet  watching  the 
Boche  lines  for  raids  or  attempts  to  cut  the  wire.  If  a  bar- 
rage, which  usually  preceded  Boche  attacks,  had  been  thrown 
over,  we  would  not  have  had  much  chance  for  escape,  as  there 
was  no  place  to  hide  at  that  particular  point. 

Our  meals  were  carried  out  to  us  in  the  dugout  by  a  food 
detail  in  big  cans  which  kept  everything  nice  and  hot.  The 
kitchen  was  nearly  two  miles  back  of  the  line,  but  the  kitchen 
force  had  to  suspend  operations  frequently  when  the  shells  be- 
gan dropping  too  close  for  comfort  and  safety.  The  Boche  lines 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


were  only  500  yards  from  our  post,  and  we  often  heard  them 
talking  or  singing  during  the  night,  and  sometimes  we  heard 
working  parties  repairing  the  wire  in  front  of  their  trenches. 

We- were  relieved  about  2  a.  m.tjuly  2nd  by  a  division  of 
fresh  troops  just  arrived  from  the  states.  Our.  sector  was  re- 
garded as  a  quiet  one  well  suited  for,  breaking  new, troops  into 
the  joys  of  trench  life.  I  had  considerable  difficulty  explaining 
our  duties  to  the  relief — how  to  challenge  a  person  approaching 
through  the  trenches,  and  more  important*  tot  the  relief,  how  to 
use  the  hand  grenades  in  case  of;  an  attack.  I  had  been  keeping 
two  dozen  within  reach  under  a  little  brush  heap  all  the  time. 

&hefe  'was  a  battery  just  behind  us,  much  to  our  disapproval, 
for  the  shells  which  fell  short  from  both  directions  landed  in 
our  neighborhood.  Every  night  and  in  the  early  morning  the 
Boche  shelled  the  woods  about  us,  and  I  soon  learned  to  lie 
down  flat  in  the  trench  at  certain  hours.  One  morning  they 
dropped  thirty  Austrain  88  mm.  shells  rather  close  to  us.  The 
report;  ofc  the  gun,, always  follows  these  small  shells,  so  the  guns 
are  hard  to  locate/  The  report  of  a  big  gun  precedes  the  shell, 
and  we  soon  learned  to  tell  the  direction  from  which  the  big 
shells  ''came.  >'.  r  "  ^  <  •-.  -  -  •  '  ,  ' 

Another; time  I  .thought  my  time'' had*  come.  I  heard  a  big 
sheir coming  my  direction  and  threw  myself  flat  in- the  bottom 
of  the  trench.  There  was'  a  terrific  explosion  not  more  than 
fifty  feet  away.  Shrapnel  flew  in  every,  direction,  and  part  of 
the  trench  caved  in  on  me.  I  managed  to  rise  to  my  knees  and 
keep  my  head  above  the  falling  dirt.  The  corporal  came  to 
mfr  onf  the  run,  but  found  me  only  badly  frightened.  I  could 
not  hear  anything  for  two  hours.  When  our  relief  arrived  I 
wasted  no  time  getting  out  of  that  locality. 

After  packing  up  our  belongings  we  started  back  through 
the  woods  along  the  same  road  by  which  we  had  gone  to  the 
front.  The  night  was  remarkably  quiet,  with  very  little  shell- 
ing.....We  rode  into  Men  La  Tour  on  flat  cars.  At  Andelli  we 
found  ^a-  harvest  regiment  of  Chinese  coolies.  A  long  day's 
hike-  brought  us  to  Fontenoy,  where  we  found  nearly  all  hous- 
ing space  already  taken.  A  bunch  'of  -us  made  for  an^old  'water- 
power  sawmill.  My  pal  and  I  pitched  our  tent  by  the  river  bank, 
and  spent  a  good  many  hours  in  the  water.  We,  had  to  go  into 
tow.n  for  our  meals.  One  day,  after  drawing  our  rations,  we  ^bought 
eggs,  cheese  an4  butter  at  a  French  farm  house.  They  gave  us 
a  handful  «pf-de4ici:0us  .strawberries  -for  good  luck. 

We  put  two  bottle's  of  beer  in  the  river  to  cool,  fried  the  eggs 
in  our-mess  kits,  and  had  some  feed.  It  seemed  as  if  we  were 
on  a  vacation,  so  far  away  from  the  roar  of  the  guns.  A  bunch 
of  us  helped  the  old  people  stack  their  hay  in  the  fields.  It 
only  took  us  a  few  minutes  to  do  what  was  for  them  a  long 
day's  work.  I  talked  with  an  old  woman  who  had  been  parti- 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY  15 


ally  paralyzed  by  a  bomb  dropped  on  the  village  where  she 
lived.  One  of  her  sons  had  been  killed  and  the  other  was  a 
prisoner. 

My  feet  were  very  sore  from  the  long  hike,  but  after  ten 
days  rest  I  was  able  to  fall  in  with  the  others  when  we  started 
to  join  the  reserves  back  of  Chateau  Thierry.  Each  of  us  carried 
an  extra  bandolier  of  rifle  ammunition,  making  200  rounds  in  all, 
and  it  took  a  mighty  good  man  to  stand  that  long  hike.  We 
stopped  now  and  then  to  rest,  once  for  three  hours,  but  the 
time  flew  so  fast  it  seemed  no  more  than  half  an  hour. 

Again  and  again  I  nearly  fell  in  the  pitch  darkness  by  step- 
ping into  small  ruts,  but  I  plugged  away,  hoping  that  our  des- 
tination would  soon  be  reached.  The  hike  continued  through- 
out the  day,  for  my  company,  but  not  for  me.  When  I  saw  a 
sign  announcing  it  was  29  kilos  to  Chateau  Thierry  my  heart 
sank  and  I  knew  I  could  not  last,  as  several  had  already  fallen 
out.  There  was  a  number  of  Boche  prisoners  here  piling  lum- 
ber and  moving  supplies  and  ammunition,  as  it  was  the  dis- 
tributing point  for  this  sector. 

We  were  going  into  reserve  for  the  big  drive,  so  we  could  not 
stop,  and  kept  on  until  we  reached  the  top  of  a  long  cobblestone 
hill.  Nearly  every  man  was  having  trouble  with  his  feet,  and 
we  received  orders  to  rest  a  while  at  the  top  of  the  hill.  I  took 
off  my  shoes  and  used  my  pack  for  a  pillow.  My  feet  fairly 
burned,  and  it  was  a  welcome  relief  to  get  those  heavy  trench 
shoes  off  for  a  little  while. 

A  large  truck  loaded  with  four  pound  loaves  of  bread  baked 
by  the  French  for  the  American  army  climbed  the  grade  while 
we  lay  there.  I  suggested  to  the  man  next  to  me  that  a  couple 
of  those  loaves  belonged  to  us,  and  he  took  the  hint,  without 
letting  the  driver  see  him.  We  were  hungrier  than  rats,  and 
that  bread  did  not  last  any  time  at  all.  I  lay  down  for  a  little 
snooze,  expecting  my  corporal  to  wake  me,  and  woke  up  about 
four  hours  later,  with  my  company  nowhere  in  sight. 

I  pulled  my  trench  shoes  onto  my  swollen  feet  and  started 
out  with  hopes  of  overtaking  my  company  somewhere  along 
the  roadside.  I  met  several  officers  and  asked  them  if  they 
could  direct  me  to  the  26th  Division.  One  of  them  consulted 
a  map  and  sent  me  on  down  the  dusty  road.  After  climbing 
what  I  took  to  be  the  longest  and  steepest  grade  I  had  seen  in 
France  I  lay  down  beside  the  road  for  a  rest. 

Then  I  saw  what  I  had  been  looking  for — a  pump !  I  found 
a  sign  on  the  pump  stating  in  French  that  the  water  was  not 
fit  for  drinking,  but  that  did  not  stop  me  from  bathing  my  feet, 
so  I  took  off  my  shoes  and  sat  on  the  top  of  the  well,  working 
the  pump  and  holding  my  feet  under  the  cool  water.  What 
a  relief  it  was !  The  burning  sensation  left,  I  was  revived  to 


16  GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


a  considerable  extent  and  given  courage  to  keep  on,  tired  as  I 
was. 

I  came  upon  a  supply  truck  company  billetted  in  the  woods. 
It  was  just  about  mess  time,  and  I  took  off  my  pack  and  rested 
until  the  company  had  been  fed.  I  then  went  up  to  the  mess 
sergeant  and  explained  my  troubles,  and  asked  him  for  a  hand- 
out. The  meal  of  roast  beef,  spuds,  string  beans,  rice  pud- 
ding, bread,  butter  and  lemonade  that  he  gave  me  was  a  dis- 
tinct surprise,  up  there  so  close  to  the  front  line,  where  it  was 
often  difficult  for  the  boys  to  get  enough  hard  tack  and  corned 
Willy. 

I  found  an  old  friend  who  was  in  another  company,  and  we 
talked  for  a  while  and  took  a  good  rest.  We  entered  a  big 
Chateau  near  by  and  found  the  building  empty.  I  then  left  my 
pal  and  went  on  in  search  of  my  company.  After  hiking  several 
kilos  I  turned  off  toward  what  I  took  to  be  an  abandoned  build- 
ing, in  which  I  found  several  Frenchmen  busy  cooking  a  meal 
on  a  dinky  stove.  I  managed  to  make  them  understand  that 
I  wished  to  warm  up  my  can  of  corned  Willy.  I  soon  had  it 
sizzling  in  my  mess  kit.  It  is  really  good  when  properly  pre- 
pared. I  gave  the  Frenchmen  some  hard  tack,  and  they  gave 
me  a  cup  of  hot  coffee.  The  French  hard  tack  is  more  like  a 
dog  biscuit,  and  has  to  be  soaked  about  five  minutes  before  it 
can  be  eaten  by  anything  less  than  a  rock  crusher. 

The  lines  were  not  far  away,  and  I  could  hear  the  guns 
booming  away  incessantly.  I  picked  up  my  few  belongings 
and  started  on  my  way,  although  I  did  not  know  whether  it  was 
right  or  wrong.  But  I  was  game,  and  covered  several  more 
kilos  before  night.  About  9  p.  m.  I  spotted  a  grain  field  on  the 
left  which  looked  like  a  good  place  for  my  night's  lodging.  I 
spread  my  shelter  half  on  the  ground,  wrapped  my  two  woolen 
blankets  as  tightly  around  my  body  as  I  could,  spread  my  slicker 
over  me,  and  went  to  sleep. 

I  slept  twelve  hours  without  opening  my  eyes  once.  I  don't 
believe  I  could  have  found  a  better  tonic  than  that  night's  rest. 
I  rolled  up  my  pack,  strapped  it  on  my  back,  and  started  off 
down  the  road,  never  dreaming  that  my  company  was  less  than 
an  hour's  walk  from  that  wheat  field.  The  commissary  depart- 
ment reported  that  my  reserve  rations  had  all  been  consumed, 
but  I  discovered  a  chunk  of  stale  bread  in  my  rain  coat  pocket 
that  satisfied  my  appetite  for  an  hour  or  two. 

The  first  man  I  met  directed  me  down  a  road  where  I  found 
a  part  of  the  26th  Division.  They  set  me  on  the  right  track. 
I  reached  Division  Headquarters  about  lunch  time,  and  I  de- 
cided it  would  pay  me  to  linger  until  the  Headquarters  com- 
pany had  mess.  I  discovered  several  men  from  my  company 
who  had  fallen  out  during  the  hike.  The  mess  sergeant  told  us 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY  17 


to  wait  for  a  few  minutes  until  the  cook  could  prepare  something 
for  us.      An  old  plow  formed  a  convenient  seat  for  me. 

After  we  had  eaten  a  guard  was  put  over  us,  and  we  were 
told  that  Col.  "Roaring  Bill"  Parker  wanted  to  see  us.  I  knew 
we  were  in  for  a  lecture,  for  one  of  my  comrades  had  told  me 
what  the  colonel  had  said  to  him  out  on  the  road  during  the 
hike.  The  colonel  came  along  in  his  luxurious  touring  car  and 
noticed  the  man  slowing  down  a  little,  and  called  him  about 
everything  that  isn't  in  the  dictionary,  including  ''Yellow  Belly" 
and  worse. 

They  lined  up  fifteen  of  us  and  marched  us  over  to  Division 
Headquarters,  where  the  colonel  appeared,  looking  for  all  the 
world  like  a  buck  private  just  back  from  wire  detail.  His 
uniform  was  tattered,  and  he  had  no  Sam  Browne  belt  or  a 
sign  of  shoulder  strap  to  indicate  his  rank.  While  a  number 
of  French  officers  stood  looking  on,  and  American  officers  grin- 
ned at  us  from  the  windows,  the  famous  Courtyard  Lecture  com- 
menced. 

I  do  not  know  how  long  it  lasted.  It  consisted  mostly  of 
various  forms  of  profanity.  He  called  us  deserters,  yellow  bel- 
lied, cowards,  etc.,  and  informed  us  that  the  next  time  it  hap- 
pened he  would  see  that  we  were  kept  in  the  front  line  trenches 
for  six  months  straight,  and  that  he  would  not  wait  for  any  slow 
moving  court  martial  but  would  line  us  up  and  shoot  us  himself. 

We  were  glad  when  a  guard  was  assigned  to  escort  us  to  our 
company,  which  was  only  a  few  hundred  yards  away.  We  were 
immediately  ordered  to  report  to  the  major.  We  left  our  packs 
in  the  woods  with  our  company  and  started.  The  colonel  fol- 
lowed us  in  his  machine,  and  ordered  the  corporal  to  get  us  into 
squad  formation  instead  of  letting  us  string  along  the  road.  So 
we  hopped  into  squad  formation  to  the  tune  of  the  colonel's 
motor  and  advanced  on  the  major's  office. 

Upon  arriving  at  the  major's  office  the  colonel  went  inside, 
leaving  us  standing  out  in  the  hot  sunshine.  Our  canteens  were 
empty,  and  we  slipped  over  one  at  a  time  to  a  well  not  far 
away  where  we  drew  buckets  of  exceptionally  cold  water  with 
which  we  quenched  our  thirst  and  filled  our  canteens.  After 
something  over  an  hour  the  colonel  appeared  again  and  walked 
around  us  making  some  more  remarks  about  drafted  men  not 
having  the  guts  that  his  regulars  had. 

The  major  waited  until  the  colonel  was  gone,  and  then  came 
out  and  asked  us  one  at  a  time  just  what  our  trouble  was.  We 
admired  him  for  the  way  he  talked  to  us.  He  said  it  was  not 
customary  to  fall  out  while  on  the  march  to  the  front  lines, 
and  that  we  must  all  try  not  to  let  it  happen  again. 

After  making  our  way  back  to  camp  across  the  fields,  I 
looked  around  for  a  suitable  sleeping  place.  I  made  a  nice 
soft  bed  on  some  straw  under  a  large  tree  which  would  pro- 


18  GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


tect  me  somewhat  from  a  rainstorm.  We  stayed  there  two 
days,  cleaning  our  rifles,  playing  cards,  shooting  craps,  and 
keeping  under  cover  of  the  woods  in  the  daytime  so  that  the 
Boche  aviators  could  not  spot  us,  for  discovery  meant  a  bomb 
dropped  from  the  sky  or  an  artillery  bombardment.  The 
Germans  had  long  range  guns  for  such  work,  planted  behind 
the  hills  twenty  miles  away. 

Then  orders  came  for  us  to  move  up  into  reserve,  and  at 
dusk  we  started  on  another  long  hike.  My  feet  were  still  on 
the  bum,  and  I  had  an  awful  time  keeping  up  with  my  com- 
pany. The  sergeant  kept  telling  me  all  the  time  to  hurry  up. 
I  replied  that  I  was  doing  my  best.  I  had  to  watch  for  chuck 
holes  in  the  road,  for  I  would  have  fallen  at  the  slightest 
stumble.  An  M.  P.  stood  at  a  cross  roads  and  directed  us  to 
some  woods  facing  towards  Chateau  Thierry. 

The  woods  were  blacker  than  ink.  We  bumped  into  tree 
after  tree,  growled  something  about  hard  luck  that  we  could  not 
even  see  where  we  were  going,  until  we  reached  a  well  con- 
cealed position.  My  pal  and  I  cleared  a  little  space  of  twigs 
and  roots  sticking  out  of  the  ground.  It  was  a  good  thing 
for  us  that  it  did  not  rain  that  night,  for  we  were  all  in. 

The  next  morning  we  all  went  to  work  putting  up  a  camou- 
flage for  our  location.  We  gave  particular  attention  to  the 
mess  kitchen,  which  we  covered  with  trees  and  what  loose 
brush  we  could  find.  No  trees  could  be  cut  down  except  in  a 
case  of  absolute  necessity. 

My  pal  and  I  pulled  up  what  roots  we  had  missed  in  the  dark 
and  pitched  our  tent,  made  out  of  two  strips  buttoned  together. 
We  had  to  be  very  careful  when  crawling  into  these  tents,  but 
once  on  my  back  I  was  soon  asleep  providing  the  shells  were 
not  coming  too  close  for  health. 

We  stayed  there  three  days.  A  Y.  M.  C.  A.  man  came 
around  several  times  selling  stuff.  Whenever  we  saw  him  com- 
ing the  whole  company  got  into  line,  and  the  poor  fellow  at  the 
end  of  the  line  had  to  wait  for  a  long  while  and  often  could 
not  get  what  he  wanted  after  all. 

A  guard  was  posted  all  the  time  to  keep  every  one  under 
cover  of  the  trees.  We  had  to  go  nearly  a  mile  for  drinking 
water.  We  always  went  two  at  a  time,  with  twenty  or  more 
canteens  swinging  from  a  long  pole  resting  on  our  shoulders. 
Some  marines  kept  busy  digging  trenches  and  putting  up 
barbed  wire  entanglements  so  that  if  the  Boche  did  break 
through  we  would  be  ready  for  him. 

I  was  put  on  K.  P.  duty  July  16th.  I  managed  to  get  a 
little  sleep  now  and  then,  in  spite  of  occasional  shells,  the  bray- 
ing of  the  mules,  or  the  swift  flight  of  an  aeroplane  on  its 
journey  of  destruction.  The  ground  where  I  slept  was  very 
damp  but  it  was  the  best  that  I  was  able  to  locate  near  by. 

When  orders  came  to  advance  we  stopped  about  five  kilos 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY  19 


behind  the  company.  I  visited  the  graves  of  two  Americans 
killed  by  a  bomb  dropped  by  a  Boche  plane.  We  sent  the  food 
up  in  large  Marremeat  cans  which  kept  the  stuff  hot  for  some 
time  if  the  lids  were  screwed  on  tightly.  The  mess  sergeant 
always  went  with  the  ration  cart  to  see  that  it  was  delivered 
to  the  right  men.  It  took  at  least  five  hours  to  make  the  round 
trip  over  the  shell  swept  road,  and  more  than  one  detail  never 
came  back  at  all.  That  one  trip  gave  the  boys  all  the  hot  food 
they  got  for  that  day. 

We  sent  up  all  the  food  we  could,  because  none  of  us  knew 
when  the  drive  would  start.  We  made  800  doughnuts  in  one 
day.  Several  times  steaks  and  stew  came  back  to  us  turned 
green  by  gas,  so  that  we  had  to  bury  it  immediately. 

I  made  the  trip  one  night  with  a  water  cart  as  extra  driver. 
If  anything  had  happend  to  the  driver  it  would  have  been  up 
to  me  to  go  ahead  alone.  There  was  not  water  supply  out 
where  the  boys  were,  and  the  precious  fluid  was  worth  its 
weight  in  gold  many  times  over  to  a  fellow  lying  wounded -on 
the  field  of  battle,  with  an  empty  canteen  and  fever  rising. 

They  were  under  constant  shell  fire,  mostly  gas.  They  had 
to  keep  their  masks  on  for  hours  at  a  time,  and  they  never 
had  any  peace.  They  dug  holes  in  the  ground  for  protection 
from  shrapnel  and  machine  gun  bullets.  As  we  made  our  way 
up  to  them  along  the  shell  swept  road  we  never  knew  but 
that  the  next  one  had  our  name  and  number  on  it. 

As  we  passed  one  of  our  batteries  hidden  in  the  woods  along- 
side the  road,  all  the  guns  were  fired  almost  together,  and  the 
noise  was  terrific.  The  flash  nearly  blinded  us,  so  that  we 
could  not  see  the  road  for  some  time.  The  mules,  frightened 
by  the  roar  and  flash  of  the  guns,  tore  down  the  road  at  break- 
neck speed  with  the  driver  doing  his  best  to  stop  them.  I 
hung  on  blindly  to  the  tool  box  in  the  rear.  The  cart  seemed 
to  hit  every  shell  hole  in  the  road,  but  I  stayed  with  it,  and 
was  there  at  the  finish.  It  took  us  half  an  hour  to  empty  our 
precious  load  into  the  barrels  which  were  buried  in  the  ground 
beside  the  road. 

Several  men  that  I  knew  came  to  fill  their  canteens  while 
I  wras  there,  they  could  only  come  out  at  night,  as  they  were 
close  enough  to  the  front  lines,  to  be  seen  in  the  day  time. 
There  was  no  water  available  for  washing  even  if  the  shells 
had  stopped  falling  long  enough  to  give  them  time  to  think 
about  such  luxuries.  They  were  a  tired  and  haggard  looking 
bunch.  Some  of  them  had  been  able  to  sleep  a  little  in  the 
fox  holes  which  they  dug  to  escape  the  shells;  others  had  not 
had  any  rest  for  days. 

On  our  return  trip  the  battery  beside  the  road  waited  until 
we  were  close  to  them,  and  then  they  whispered  something  to 
the  Kaiser  that  started  the  mules  on  another  wild  run,  but  this 
time  we  were  headed  toward  camp.  Shells  were  piled  six  feet 


20  GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


high  alongside  the  road,  all  covered  with  brush,  so  there  was  not 
much  danger  of  us  getting  off  the  road.  The  mess  sergeant 
met  us  before  we  reached  camp,  wanting  to  know  if  everything 
was  O.  K.  I  was  certainly  tired  after  that  ride,  which  had 
Paul  Revere's  ride  skinned  a  mile  for  speed  and  ducking  G.  I. 
cans,  and  I  beat  it  for  my  pup  tent  out  on  the  damp  ground, 
where  I  sawed  wood  until  they  shook  me  up  at  noon. 

July  14  the  Red  Cross  man  came  along  and  gave  us  choco- 
late, cigarettes  and  writing  paper,  of  which  I  had  none  left, 
as  I  had  been  writing  a  good  many  letters.  We  could  not 
buy  anything  in  that  vicinity,  as  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  men  seldom 
came  around,  and  they  had  very  little  if  any  stock  left. 

A  motorized  machine  gun  battalion  camped  near  us  in  the 
woods.  They  were  used  as  hole  pluggers,  rushing  here  and 
there  where  the  Boche  threatened  to  break  through.  They 
used  Ford  cars,  and  they  were  always  at  the  right  place  at  the 
right  time.  I  wrote  several  letters  the  day  before  our  company 
went  over  the  top,  which  was  at  five  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
July  18.  I  did  not  expect  many  chances  to  write  while  the 
drive  was  on.  The  boys  advanced  behind  a  heavy  barrage, 
and  must  have  surprised  the  Germans,  for  those  who  did  not 
start  for  Berlin  on  the  double  came  our  direction  yelling  "Kam- 
erad"  and  clawing  the  cobwebs  off  the  milky  way.  Large 
batches  of  prisoners  streamed  down  trie  road  all  day.  Some 
of  them  had  been  merely  stripped  of  their  arms  and  told  to 
hit  the  trail  for  the  prison  camp. 

The  Americans  never  hesitated  to  shoot  a  German  who  did 
not  have  his  hands  straight  up.  Many  of  them  were  very 
treacherous.  A  favorite  trick  was  to  advance  with  a  small 
grenade  bomb  in  their  fists,  throwing  it  when  sure  of  a  mark. 
Dozens  of  them  were  shot  when  these  bombs  were  found  in 
their  possession. 

The  next  morning  the  kitchen  was  ordered  to  advance  to  some 
woods  far  in  advance  of  the  place  where  the  company  had  gone 
over  the  top.  As  we  were  passing  through  the  ruins  of  a  little 
village,  a  messenger  from  our  company  ran  his  bicycle  into  an 
officer's  horse.  Both  the  bicycle  and  the  horse  were  making 
extra  good  time,  but  no  serious  damage  was  done.  I  ran  over 
and  picked  up  the  runner  and  helped  him  get  started  again, 
and  then  rejoined  the  kitchen  detail. 

I  noticed  a  tall  tree  with  a  rope  ladder  running  up  to  the 
top,  where  a  comfortable  chair,  neatly  camouflaged,  had  pro- 
vided an  observation  post  from  which  the  country  could  be 
seen  for  miles.  An  officer  with  a  good  pair  of  field  glasses 
could  get  a  lot  of  valuable  information  from  such  a  post.  Of 
course  he  had  to  keep  absolutely  quiet  in  the  daytime. 

A  last  the  driver  turned  the  kitchen  up  a  narrow  road  where 
we  had  to  help  it  over  the  ruts  now  and  then,  until  we  were 
well  back  from  the  road.  We  got  busy  with  a  couple  of  axes 


COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


and  cleared  a  space  of  brush  and  stumps.  Then  we  discon- 
nected the  two  parts  of  the  kitchen,  or  rather  the  pantry  from 
the  kitchen,  bracing  the  sections  on  their  two  wheels  so  that 
they  would  not  tip  over.  We  prepared  the  food  in  the  pantry 
and  did  the  cooking  in  the  kitchen.  We  set  them  on  opposite 
sides  of  the  road  so  that  it  was  only  a  step  from  one  to  the  other. 
When  the  meat  supply  ran  short  we  resorted  to  stew,  so  that 
it  would  go  around. 

After  spreading  my  blankets  on  the  ground  under  a  large 
tree  I  went  exploring  with  the  rest  of  the  detail.  The  woods 
had  been  fought  over  just  the  day  before,  and  they  were  full 
of  equipment  thrown  away  by  the  advancing  Americans.  They 
discarded  everything  when  they  went  over  the  top  except  re- 
serve rations,  helmet,  gas  mask,  rifle,  ammunition  both  in 
belt  and  in  an  extra  handolier  of  100  cartridges  thrown  over 
the  shoulder. 

I  found  a  new  Springfield  rifle  and  gave  it  to  a  man  who  had 
lost  his  off  the  kitchen,  to  which  he  had  strapped  it  to  save 
carrying  it.  From  the  edge  of  the  woods  we  looked  out  on  an 
open  field  where  we  could  see  several  duds — unexploded  shells 
— but  there  were  no  bodies  in  sight.  We  had  expected  to 
find  some,  as  we  had  heard  that  a  number  of  the  boys  had  been 
killed. 

When  we  returned  to  the  kitchen  we  learned  that  orders  had 
been  received  for  another  move  after  nightfall.  It  was  only  4 
p.  m.,  so  we  had  some  time  to  wait.  After  getting  everything 
ready  to  move  on  a  minute's  notice  we  made  our  way  to  a  small 
farm  house  to  get  some  drinking  water.  On  the  way  we  learned 
that  two  of  our  boys  were  lying  near  by  where  they  had  been 
killed.  I  went  over  to  see  if  I  could  identify  the  bodies. 

One  was  a  corporal  from  my  company.  His  forehead  had 
been  split  by  a  large  piece  of  shrapnel.  I  noticed  that  some 
one  had  taken  his  automatic.  The  other  boy  was  one  of  my 
pals.  Apparently  a  piece  of  shrapnel  had  struck  his  bayonet 
scabbard,  for  it  was  bent  almost  double.  A  dozen  letters  were 
scattered  about  on  the  ground,  still  unopened,  mute  as  to  the 
suddenness  of  the  order  which  had  sent  him  to  his  death.  One 
of  his  arms  and  a  leg  had  been  torn  off,  by  a  high  explosive 
shell,  I  was  told. 

The  time  for  the  kitchen  to  advance  was  near  at  hand.  As 
I  went  on  to  a  farmhouse  where  I  could  get  good  drinking 
water,  I  noticed  a  great  red  flare  far  to  the  east,  which  I  took  to 
be  an  ammunition  dump  set  on  fire  by  the  retreating  Boche. 
As  the  Americans  had  captured  a  number  of  their  guns,  the 
enemy  tried  to  destroy  the  shells  they  were  unable  to  use. 

We  started  forward  with  the  kitchen  about  9  p.  m.,  July 
19th,  up  over  a  long  hill,  topped  by  the  ruins  of  a  little  village 
through  which  the  Boche  line  had  run  for  a  time.  There  was 
a  story  in  circulation  that  the  Boche  cooked  here  in  the  daytime, 


22  GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


and  that  the  Americans  cooked  that  night  in  the  same  place. 

The  road  through  the  village  was  badly  cut  up  by  shell  fire. 
Many  trees  hit  by  shells  had  fallen  across  the  road,  blocking 
it  until  the  engineers  arrived.  They  kept  busy  during  the 
drive  keeping  the  roads  open  for  traffic.  Filling  the  shell  holes 
with  crushed  rock  was  a  big  task. 

Nearly  every  building  in  the  next  village  we  came  to  had 
been  entirely  demolished,  and  those  which  had  not  been  wreck- 
ed by  exploding  shells  showed  great  holes  where  duds  had 
passed  through.  However,  the  railroad  bridge  in  this  town  had 
not  been  damaged.  Most  of  the  trees  had  been  killed  by  the 
gas,  so  the  scene  was  far  from  attractive. 

We  passed  through  a  number  of  these  small  villages,  and  saw 
several  bodies  lying  on  the  ground,  apparently  snipers  and 
machine  gunners  left  behind  in  a  vain  attempt  to  stop  the  ad- 
vance. Most  of  these  fellows  got  what  they  deserved.  Their 
favorite  stunt  was  to  keep  on  shooting  until  they  saw  them- 
selves in  danger  and  then  cry  Kamerad. 

When  about  three  kilos  from  the  front  line  where  the 
Americans  were  resting  the  mess  sergeant  returned  reporting 
that  the  boys  were  in  some  woods,  and  got  ready  for  business 
by  disconnecting  the  kitchen. 

We  found  the  woods  full  of  small  dugouts,  about  three 'feet 
under  ground  in  solid  clay,  so  we  knew  there  was  no  danger 
of  their  caving  in.  My  pal  and  I  could  not  find  any  cooties, 
so  we  spread  out  our  blankets  in  one  of  them  and  were  soon 
sound  asleep,  in  spite  of  the  exceptionally  heavy  barrage  with 
which  the  Boche  was  trying  to  check  our  advance. 

The  mess  sergeant  soon  received  orders  for  a  hot  meal,  all 
we  could  send,  as  it  had  been  four  days  since  the  company  had 
had  a  hot  meal.  All  the  boys  had  to  eat  in  that  time  was  the 
reserve  rations  in  their  packs.  We  were  all  on  the  job  at  once. 
We  kept  the  stove  full  of  wood  and  soon  had  the  coffee  boiling. 
The  canned  corn,  of  which  we  had  a  large  quantity,  and  the  corn- 
ed Willy  were  soon  hot,  the  bread  was  cut,  everything  loaded  on 
to  the  ration  cart,  and  the  mess  sergeant  and  the  driver  were 
off. 

As  our  division  was  waiting  for  relief,  they  merely  held  the 
Boche  in  check  and  watched  for  a  counter  attack.  After  an 
hour's  search  the  company  was  located,  and  the  food  was  dis- 
tributed, not  without  difficulty,  however,  as  the  Boche  machine 
gunners  were  not  far  away  ready  to  pick  off  any  one  who  care- 
lessly exposed  himself  to  view. 

When  the  mess  sergeant  returned  he  reported  that  the  boys 
were  all  worn  out  by  the  eight  days  of  constant  strain,  hard- 
ly any  sleep  even  at  night,  when  their  only  protection  was 
usually  the  fox  holes  they  dug  for  themselves.  Five  men  had 
been  killed  by  one  shell  which  dropped  into  the  trench  in  which 
they  were  standing. 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY  23 


We  found  many  heaps  of  ammunition  scattered  through  the 
woods,  covered  with  grass  to  camouflage  them  from  low-flying 
aeroplanes.  As  for  equipment,  most  anything  could  be  had 
from  a  messkit  to  a  suit  of  clothes.  In  some  of  the  dugouts 
I  came  across  women's  shoes  and  clothing. 

Our  greatest  difficulty  was  the  scarcity  of  water.  The 
country  had  been  entirely  devasted  while  in  the  possession  of 
the  Boche,  especially  the  wells,  most  of  which  had  been  poison- 
ed. The  water  in  every  well  had  to  be  analyzed  before  it 
could  be  used  for  drinking. 

I  was  sent  out  with  the  driver  of  our  water  cart  to  a  des- 
tination unknown,  as  our  orders  were  merely,  "Go  get  some 
water."  Making  our  way  with  great  difficulty  over  and 
around  the  pits  left  by  thousands  of  exploding  shells  to  the 
nearest  village  site,  where  once  a  dozen  happy  homes  had  stood, 
we  found  the  water  in  the  well  unfit  for  drinking. 

We  went  on  for  about  a  mile  through  some  woods  formerly 
held  by  the  Boche  to  a  farmhouse  which  resembled  a  fort,  on 
account  of  the  heavy  stone  wall  surrounding  it.  We  found 
the  well  dry  at  this  place.  There  were  a  number  of  French 
soldiers  resting  in  the  house.  They  were  a  funny  looking  lot  on 
account  of  the  odd  sizes  of  the  men.  Several  of  them  were  at 
least  fifty  years  old,  others  not  yet  twenty-five.  The  tall  ones 
carried  short  rifles  and  the  short  ones  long  rifles.  We  saw 
several  graves  beside  the  road  where  Boches  had  been  buried. 

It  was  nearly  dark  by  this  time.  The  mules  were  well  nigh 
starved  and  very  tired,  so  our  progress  to  the  next  village  was 
decidedly  slow.  We  found  some  Americans  billetted  in  a 
stone  building.  We  saw  a  large  pond  here,  but  we  could  not 
use  the  water.  On  we  went  to  the  next  village,  where  we  filled 
our  fifty  gallon  tank  with  good  clear  water  drawn  in  a  bucket 
from  a  well. 

In  opening  a  box  of  prunes  (we  called  them  "army  cherries") 
I  discovered  that  the  box  was  put  up  by  my  uncle  who  used 
to  run  a  packing  house  at  Los  Gatos,  California,  which  is  my 
home-  town. 

We  had  to  wear  our  helmets  all  the  time  and  our  gas  masks 
at  alert.  The  helmets  worn  by  the  Boche  were  almost  twice 
the  weight  of  ours. 

After  being  at  this  place  a  couple  of  days  we  were  ordered 
to  fall  back  about  three  kilos.'  We  reached  the  place  in  about 
four  hours,  and  hastily  camouflaged  everything  with  brush  and 
trees.  We  had  no  orders  to  cook  a  meal,  so  we  looked  over  the 
position  a  little.  The  place  was  one  taken  by  my  company  in 
the  drive.  Soon  after  we  started  out  on  our  souvenir  hunt  we 
found  a  patch  of  bushes  which  had  made  an  excellent  position 
for  a  machine  gun  nest. 

The  first  thing  I  picked  up  was  some  canteen  paper  money 
which  was  issued  to  the  soldiers  in  advance  and  charged 


24  GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


against  his  pay.  These  checks  enabled  the  soldier  to  purchase 
necessities  at  the  army  canteens.  I  sent  home  three  bills,  of 
one,  two,  and  four  marks.  At  the  other  end  of  the  patch  of 
bushes  I  found  a  machine  gun  pit  dug  in  the  ground,  about  four 
feet  deep.  The  gunner  had  stood  in  this  pit,  ready  to  sweep 
the  country  for  miles  with  his  machine  gun. 

Every  fifth  bullet  was  explosive,  making  a  very  nasty  wound 
when  it  struck  one.  The  belts  carried  200  cartridges,  the 
longest  that  I  had  seen.  The  belts  were  provided  with  hooks 
at  the  end,  so  that  a  never-ending  stream  of  cartridges  could 
be  fed  into  the  gun.  The  French  shosho  guns  used  by  my 
company  could  fire  only  twenty  cartridges  at  a  time,  then 
another  holder  had  to  be  inserted. 

My  friend  picked  up  an  American  automatic  which  had  been 
struck  by  a  piece  of  shrapnel.  The  fragment  had  cut  into  the 
chamber  in  such  a  way  that  the  trigger  could  not  be  pulled. 
We  found  several  dead  Germans  lying  where  they  had  fallen 
four  days  before.  They  had  turned  black.  The  helmets  of 
two  of  them  could  be  seen  peeking  over  the  edge  of  a  shell 
hole.  They  were  no  doubt  machine  gunners  who  fired  until 
the  Americans  were  close  up  and  then  tried  the  "Kamerad" 
stunt.  But  as  they  had  killed  many  of  the  Americans  and 
wounded  others  all  they  got  was  three  of  four  bayonets  in  the 
ribs. 

Another  Boche  stood  in  a  trench  with  his  hands  in  the  air. 
He  had  been  shot  through  the  heart.  The  following  day  fif- 
teen of  these  bodies  were  collected  and  buried  in  a  large  shell 
hole. 

We  slept  out  on  the  bare  ground  at  this  place.  Two  days 
after  moving  we  moved  back,  and  after  a  stop  of  half  a  day 
we  again  moved  forward. 

A  battery  o*f  six  French  long  range  guns  about  a  kilo  from  us 
made  the  ground  tremble  every  few  minutes,  and  we  could 
hear  the  shells  shrieking  through  the  air.  Their  range  was 
twenty-two  kilos.  As  the  boys  advanced,  these  guns  had  to 
be  moved  forward,  those  from  the  rear  going  to  the  front  be- 
fore stopping. 

I  counted  eighteen  observation  balloons,  the  eyes  of  the 
artillery,  in  a  straight  line  about  ten  kilos  long.  They  had  a 
fleet  of  aeroplanes  to  protect  them  from  the  Boche  aviators, 
who  tried  to  get  close  enough  to  shoot  them  down  with  ex- 
plosive bullets,  setting  the  balloons  on  fire  and  compelling  the 
observer  to  leap  for  his  life  in  a  parachute. 

I  discovered  a  three  inch  rapid  fire  gun  abandoned  by  the 
Boche.  It  had  been  neatly  covered  with  straw.  The  barrel 
was  all  that  I  could  see. 

Returning  to  the  kitchen  we  found  orders  for  a  hot  meal  to 
be  sent  up  to  the  lines  as  soon  as  possible.  The  water  tank 
was  empty,  so  I  started  out  with  the  driver  to  hunt  for  water. 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY  25 


There  had  been  some  heavy  fighting  here.  I  saw  several  Ger- 
mans lying  where  they  had  been  killed.  The  sides  of  the  road 
were  honeycombed  with  small  dugouts  where  they  had  lived 
like  rats,  with  just  room  to  lie  down.  Further  up  the  road 
I  saw  a  large  grave  containing  the  bodies  of  twenty  men  from 
the  26th  Division  who  had  been  killed  by  French  shells.  I 
looked  at  each  of  the  little  wooden  crosses  to  make  sure  that 
none  of  my  company  were  buried  there. 

To  one  side  lay  a  little  village  which  had  been  nearly  de- 
molished by  the  retreating  Boche.  A  party  of  French  engineers 
was  clearing  the  wreckage  from  the  streets  so  that  the  traffic 
could  pass.  By  saying  "Delooh"  and  pointing  to  the  tank  I 
made  them  understand  I  wanted  water,  and  they  directed  me 
to  the  town  washhouse  where  we  filled  our  tank  in  about  ten 
minutes  with  a  small  pump  which  the  French  had  installed  for 
our  benefit.  The  water  was  very  good. 

As  we  left  the  village  we  had  a  steep  hill  to  climb.  The 
mules  were  tired,  and  I  got  off  and  pushed  all  I  could.  While 
we  rested  at  the  top  some  French  ammunition  carts  came  along 
loaded  with  shells  for  the  front.  We  met  a  large  batch  of 
Boche  prisoners  in  charge  of  an  M.  P.  on  horesback.  They 
followed  wherever  he  went.  They  were  some  sorry  looking 
lot.  None  of  them  had  had  a  shave  or  a  bath  for  weeks,  and 
their  clothing  was  no  more  than  rags.  Their  leader,  who  did 
not  look  much  like  a  German  to  me,  was  a  good  six  feet  six 
inches  tall.  As  they  passed  the  Frenchman  who  was  driving 
stopped  and  stood  up,  griting  his  teeth  and  shaking  his  fist  at 
them. 

When  we  reached  the  kitchen  we  emptied  the  tank  into  our 
three  big  double  boilers  and  one  single  one.  Orders  came  for 
another  move  the  next  day.  When  we  started  out  after  water 
we  found  some  in  half  an  hour,  but  the  stream  from  the  faucet 
here  was  so  small  that  it  would  have  taken  us  all  day  to  fill 
the  tank.  Some  intelligence  officers  were  examining  fifteen 
prisoners  in  the  courtyard,  going  through  their  pockets  in  search 
of  information  of  value.  One  of  them  could  talk  English. 
When  asked  if  he  thought  the  war  was  going  to  last  much 
longer  he  replied  that  he  did  not  know.  Some  of  them  were 
eating  some  food  out  of  cans.  One  fellow  threw  away  half  a 
can,  and  one  of  the  officers  remarked  that  food  must  be  plenti- 
ful in  Germany. 

We  started  for  a  place  about  ten  kilos  distant  where  I  knew 
the  water  was  plentiful  and  good.  We  were  gone  six  hours, 
and  the  mess  sergeant  was  angry.  I  explained  that  my  orders 
were  to  get  water,  and  that  I  had  obeyed  my  orders. 

Our  division  was  relieved  soon  after  that.  We  moved  to 
the  rear  under  cover  of  darkness,  after  preparing  a  good  hot 
meal.  When  we  reached  the  company  we  found  only  fifty-five 
left  of  the  200  who  started  in  the  drive.  All  the  rest  were 


26  GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


either  killed  or  wounded.  They  certainly  looked  tired  after 
that  ten  days  of  hell.  We  gave  them  all  they  wanted  of  every- 
thing. 

I  was  completely  worn  out  myself.  I  slept  with  two  of  my 
pals  who  were  without  shelter.  They  had  discarded  their 
packs  during  the  drive  so  that  their  movement  would  not  be 
hindered.  One  of  these  two  boys,  named  Manning,  was  killed 
later  in  the  St.  Mehiel  drive. 

I  was  kept  on  the  water  wagon  job  during  the  rest  that  fol- 
lowed. I  met  the  Colonel  one  morning.  He  seemed  to  be  in 
good  humor,  saying  "Good  morning"  when  I  saluted.  He 
certainly  must  have  had  a  grouch  on  that  day  he  bawled  me 
out  for  falling  out  of  the  hike. 

The  watering  place  was  some  grand  mud  hole.  I  had  to 
walk  through  mud  over  my  shoe  tops  to  fill  the  bucket  from  a 
small  stream  running  out  of  the  hillside.  It  was  near  a  large 
tunnel  on  the  main  railroad  line.  The  entrance  to  the  tunnel 
had  been  closed  by  American  artillery  fire,  so  that  the  Boche 
could  not  retreat  through  it.  The  rails  had  been  dynamited, 
making  extensive  repairs  necessary  before  the  Allies  could  use 
it  for  hauling  supplies,  and  to  bring  up  the  big  long  range  naval 
guns  on  flat  cars  which  could  be  readily  moved  from  place  to 
place,  fooling  the  Boche  gunners  who  were  trying  to  get  the 
range. 

These  naval  guns  threw  a  large  projectile  twenty-five  kilos 
and  kept  the  Boche  on  the  run.  Large  heaps  of  ammunition 
led  us  to  believe  the  Boche  had  plenty  of  ammunition  instead  of 
the  scarcity  reported.  Several  shells  had  come  over  made  of 
all  sorts  of  material  such  as  aluminum,  glass,  brass  and  copper. 
Many  of  their  shells  failed  to  explode. 

We  started  for  our  rest  camp  August  2nd.  We  passed 
through  mile  after  mile  of  war  torn  country,  where  we  were 
hindered  in  our  march  by  the  shell  holes  in  the  roads.  We  had 
to  help  the  mules  pull  the  kitchen  more  than  once.  We  went 
to  the  rear  by  the  same  road  up  which  we  had  advanced,  march- 
ing until  we  were  tired,  and  then  resting  a  while.  We  soon  got 
out  of  range  of  the  Boche  guns,  and  it  was  a  wonderful  relief  to 
get  back  where  all  we  could  hear  was  a  niose  far  behind  us  not 
unlike  the  booming  of  distant  surf. 

As  we  passed  through  a  small  village  a  Frenchman  came  out 
with  a  bucket  of  water  which  was  a  lifesaver  for  many  of  us. 
There  was  a  pump  nearby,  but  we  were  not  allowed  to  stop 
until  we  reached  the  top  of  the  hill.  I  found  a  box  of  trench 
pastry  in  one  of  the  boilers  and  satisfied  my  hunger.  The 
march  was  resumed  after  a  brief  rest.  We  had  to  block  the 
wheels  going  down  several  hills,  as  there  were  no  brakes  on 
the  kitchen  trucks,  and  the  mules  could  never  hold  them  back. 

After  staying  three  days  in  the  identical  place  where  we  had 
prepared  for  the  drive,  we  passed  on  through  a  little  village 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY  27 


where  our  first  dressing  station  had  been  located  in  the  church, 
and  up  over  the  hill  on  the  way  to  our  rest  camp.  My  teeth 
were  beginnig  to  bother  me.  The  bridge  work  had  been  worn 
out  on  both  sides  by  the  hard  tack. 

We  had  regular  hours  in  the  rest  camp,  reveille  at  6  a.  m.  and 
taps  at  9  p.  iru  We  were  given  plenty  of  time  for  recreation, 
and  we  played  baseball,  cards,  and  other  games.  Some  of  us 
who  were  lucky  were  allowed  to  visit  the  nearest  large  town 
where  they  could  get  a  good  home^cooked  meal  in  a  French 
home.  The  women  treated  us  fine,  serving  wine  wherever 
we  went,  as  the  water  was  undrinkable. 

I  wrote  home  that  I  would  be  lucky  if  I  came  back  from  the 
war,  and  received  a  note  from  my  mother  acknowleding  the 
receipt  of  a  check  from .  the  government,  the  ten  dollar  allot- 
ment that  was  to  start  in  January.  I  had  expected  the  govern- 
ment to  add  at  least  ten  dollars  to  my  ten..  I  urged  every  one 
at  home  to  go  the  limit  on  the  Fourth  Liberty  Loan,  as  I  had 
seen  things  and  knew  that  the  government  needed  the  money 
to  equip  and  feed  the  boys  on  the  line  and  the  others  on  the  way, 
for  a  boy  can  not  do  much  fighting  with  no  ammunition  and  a 
wooden  gun  and  with  his  stomach  empty.  I  had  been  in  twice 
and  come  out  without  a  scratch,  although  I  had  been  so  badly 
frightened  at  times  that  I  had  forgotten  to  pray  for  the  good 
health  of  my  folks  at  home  and  for  my  own  safety. 

Up  to  this,  time  I 'had  ncdfye,1;,§een  a  t,ank.  I  had  heard  how 
they  wiped! out  the,  Boche  .machine  gun,  nests,  nothing  stopping 
them  but  direct  hits  by  heavy  artillery,  usually  fatal  to  the 
crew  of  two  or  three  men. 

I  received, a  good  conduct  pass  Augus.t  6th  and  went  to  the 
nearest  village  with  another  member  of  the  kitchen  detail.  We 
walked  down  a  path  to  the  main  road  running  toward  Cha- 
teau Thierry.  There  were  plenty  of  auto  trucks  passing.  We 
flagged  the  first  one  and  got  a  ride  to  La  Ferte,  a  good  sized 
town  where  we  could  get  almost  anything  by  paying  an  ex- 
orbitant price.  Two  small  green  pears  cost  one  and  one  half 
francs,  four  small  but  fairly  good  peaches,  two  francs;  a  fist 
full  of  grapes,  two  francs;  two  small  oranges,  one  franc.  I 
could  have  bought  the  whole  lot  for  twenty  cents  in  New 
York. 

We  saw  many  .things  which  were  used  extensively  in  the 
army,-  suc,h  as  sweet  potatoes  (canned)^  all  -varieties  of  evapor- 
ated vegetables,  brought  to  trieir-  normal  size  1>yr  two  to  three 
hours  .soaking  in  water.  Tfiey  came  in  fifteen  pound  cans,  con- 
venient for  keeping  part  if  we  did  not  use  the  whole  can  at  one 
time.  Potatoes  came  in  two  different  forms — small  cubes  and 
thin  slices  for  frying.  Karo  corn  syrup  made  a  hit  with  the 
boys — some  of  them  were  wild  over  it,  spreading  it  on  their 
bread  every  time  they  could  get  it.  I  often  served  three  and 
four  ten  pound  cans  to  the  company  for  one  meal. 


28  GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


Our  coffee  was  excellent.  Oleomargarine  was  the  best  sub- 
stitute for  butter.  It  would  not  keep  very  long,  so  when  we 
managed  to  get  a  surplus  we  flavored  our  boiled  spuds  and  car- 
rots with  it. 

I  had  a  dandy  place  for  my  sleping  tent.  My  pal  and  I 
covered  the  ground  with  six  inches  of  straw  and  made  a  fine 
bed. 

August  7th  the  rain  came  down  in  torrents.  After  a  hard 
day's  work  I  crawled  into  my  tent  to  rest  and  write  a  letter  or 
two.  I  did  not  dare  touch  the  canvass,  as  that  made  it  leak. 
The  boys  from  Connecticut  received  money  that  day  from  the 
Spanish  War  Veterans,  and  I  began  to  wonder  if  California  was 
getting  up  some  benefit  for  the  boys  from  that  state.  I  de- 
cided that  she  must  be  holding  it  up  her  sleeve  until  we  got 
home. 

I  had  the  afternoon  off  August  9th.  There  was  no  laundry  to 
which  we  could  send  our  soiled  clothes,  and  I  spent  the  afternoon 
boiling  and  washing  my  clothes,  using  plenty  of  soap.  I  was 
sure  I  killed  all  the  cooties  that  time.  But  no  matter  how  well 
we  cleaned  up  they  were  always  just  as  bad  the  next  day,  and 
the  only  way  to  keep  them  from  crawling  away  with  us  was  to 
get  the  shirt  reading  habit,  and  do  the  once  over  every  day. 

The  next  day  I  sent  home  imprints  of  the  different  coins  I 
happened  to  have  in  my  pocket.  The  old  copper  five  centime 
piece  had  been  superseded  by  a  new  one  made  of  aluminum  with 
a  hole  punched  in  the  center.  The  ten  centime  piece  was  a 
little  larger,  with  a  hole  in  its  center.  The  twenty-five  centime 
piece  was  a  little  larger  than  the  franc. 

We  were  told  that  the  coins  were  called  in  to  get  the  copper 
for  shells  and  parts  of  the  big  guns,  and  to  do  away  with  the 
confusing  of  twenty-five  centime  pieces  with  francs.  The 
holes  in  the  ten  centime  pieces  helped  to  distinguish  them.  At 
one  time  there  were  five  different  coins  in  circulation  in  France, 
(five)  England,  Belgium,  Switzerland,  France,  and  sunny  Italy, 
and  the  five  coins  all  had  equal  purchasing  value  in  all  of  the 
five  countries  mentioned. 

I  received  a  watch  from  my  brother.  I  could  not  make  it 
run  for  some  time  until  I  discovered  that  the  minute  hand  was 
striking  the  second  hand  at  the  tip.  I  sent  my  mother  a  small 
silk  handkerchief  with  a  letter  for  her  birthday. 

August  18th  our  regimental  band  played  for  the  boys  in  the 
village.  Listening  to  music  is  certainly  more  soothing  to  the 
nerves  than  ducking  shells.  I  heated  water  for  a  nice  hot  bath 
over  the  coals  in  the  mess  kitchen.  We  had  moved  into  a 
house  in  the  village,  and  I  had  a  dandy  straw  bed  in  a  room 
where  there  was  a  stone  floor  and  a  fireplace. 

I  had  got  the  smoking  habit  by  this  time,  like  all  the  other 
boys.  I  liked  the  French  wine,  but  the  beer  was  rotten.  I 
was  firmly  convinced  that  my  numfrer  was  not  on  any  of  the 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY  29 


Kaiser's  shells.  The  weather  was  very  warm  so  that  I  did  not 
mind  sleeping  out  in  the  open. 

The  dentist  was  working  on  my  teeth  so  that  they  bothered 
the  life  out  of  me  every  time  I  ate.  I  changed  my  insurance 
papers  so  that  my  father  would  get  $3,000  and  my  mother 
$7,000  in  case  anything  happened  to  me  while  in  the  service. 

There  were  not  many  aeroplanes  to  be  seen  around  our  rest 
camp,  we  were  far  behind  the  lines,  away  from  the  continuous 
shell  fire  and  strain.  We  did  not  get  many  newspapers  there, 
as  the  village  in  the  vicinity  were  not  reached  by  a  railroad. 
The  nearest  railroad  station  was  twenty  kilos  from  us. 

Nearly  all  the  people  remaining  in  the  village  were  elderly 
people  who  toiled  all  day  in  the  fields,  I  noticed  one  woman 
who  must  have  been  at  least  eighty,  cutting  hay  like  a  young 
chicken. 

We  were  paid  August  24th.  A  little  Frog,  well  into  his  fourth 
summer,  came  along  while  I  was  drawing  water  from  our  cart  to 
make  Java.  His  shoes  were  in  tatters,  especially  the  backs.  I 
picked  up  a  nail  and  sewed  them  up  as  well  as  I  could  with  some 
heavy  twine,  so  that  they  at  least  kept  his  feet  off  the  ground. 
I  do  not  claim  to  be  an  expert  shoemaker  when  the  tools  of  the 
trade  are  on  hand,  but  I  made  that  little  shaver  happy. 

A  member  of  my  company  was  sent  back  to  the  States  August 
24th,  on  account  of  the  dependency  of  his  wife  and  two  children. 
He  had  been  sent  over  to  France  through  some  error  and  had 
been  to  the  front  twice. 

The  town  pump  went  dry,  and  I  had  to  haul  water  from  a 
spring  beyond  the  next  village.  The  water  was  exceptionally 
clean  and  cool.  The  town  crier  was  making  his  rounds  as  we 
passed  through.  He  assembled  the  villagers  by  beating  a  drum 
and  then  announced  the  latest  dope  on  the  war  or  anything  of 
interest  or  importance. 

We  spent  several  days  on  the  road  until  we  reached  some  dark 
woods  about  two  o'clock  of  a  very  dark  morning.  The  road  was 
well  supplied  with  shell  holes  which  hindered  us  a  good  deal. 
We  stopped  one  day,  and  then  took  another  fifteen  kilo  hike.  I 
had  had  almost  no  sleep  for  two  days  and  could  hardly  keep  up 
with  the  kitchen.  We  had  been  taking  turns  sleeping  on  top  of 
the  kitchen  while  on  the  march.  When  it  came  my  turn  I  was 
soon  asleep,  with  my  head  hanging  over  the  fire  box.  The  link 
connecting  the  front  to  the  rear  slipped  out,  and  I  took  a  com- 
plete somersault  in  the  air  and  landed  on  my  feet.  As  soon  as  I 
got  my  eyes  open  and  realized  what  had  happened  I  ran  down 
the  road  to  stop  the  driver,  who  did  not  know  that  he  had  lost 
an  important  part  of  his  load. 

While  on  the  march  the  ration  cart  always  followed  the  kitch- 
en. Whenever  we  got  hungry  I  grabbed  a  loaf  of  bread  and 
cut  it  up.  Sometimes  we  had  jam,  or  olemargine,  too. 

When  we  reached  our  destination  we  found  that  part  of  the 


30  GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


division  had  already  arrived,  and  a  number  of  kitchens  were  set 
up  in  the  woods,  which  looked  very  much  like  a  village  soon 
after  dark,  with  nothing  to  be  seen  but  a  few  lights  here  and 
there.  After  placing  our  own  kitchen  we  looked  around  for 
a  good  place  to  sleep.  We  slept  from  three  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing until  nine.  Soon  after  a  hasty  breakfast  of  coffee  and  bread, 
we  were  all  treated  to  a  general  bawling  out  of  the  officers  by 
our  friend  the  colonel,  known  intimately  as  "Roaring  Bill."  He 
said  that  we  should  have  camouflaged  the  kitchens  with  trees, 
and  then  reminded  us  all  that  the  French  did  not  want  any  more 
trees  cut  than  was  absolutely  necessary. 

Two  days  later  we  moved  to  a  better  location  one  kilo  nearer 
the  front.  That  was  the  shortest  and  perhaps  the  slowest  hike 
I  ever  took.  We  spent  five  hours  doing  little  more  than  wait  for 
orders  to  move  on  another  hundred  yards,  but  we  finally  ar- 
rived, unhitched  the  mules  and  put  them  in  their  corral,  and  then 
all  hands  returned  to  the  kitchen.  I  don't  think  I  ever  swore 
so  much  in  all  the  rest  of  my  life  as  I  did  the  next  hour.  We 
had  to  work  the  kitchen  into  a  clump  of  bushes.  It  wasn't  the 
lifting  and  pulling  and  pushing  that  worried  us.  The  bushes 
were  equipped,  with  long  thorns  which  made  us  forget  about  all 
the  barbed  wire  ever  invented.  We  had  to  get  the  job  done, 
too,  before  we  could  get  any  sleep.  I  slept  where  I  dropped 
until  wakened  by  the  mess  sergeant  who  told  me  to  hustle  some 
water.  I  had  to  go  back  eight  kilos. 

September  8th,  just  after  I  had  finished  cutting  five  10  pound 
tins  of  bacon,  the  knife  slipped  while  I  was  skinning  the  rind 
and  nearly  finished  a  finger  for  me.  Our  first  aid  man  fixed 
it  up  with  iodine  and  a  bandage  which  I  soon  lost,  as  I  kept  right 
on  with  my  work. 

The  French  were  busy  placing  long  range  guns  along  the  road 
and  camouflaging  them  overhead  so  that  they  could  not  be  spot- 
ted from  aeroplanes,  doing  everything  at  night,  of  course.  It 
rained  every  day,  with  regular  cloudbursts  between  showers. 
Two  of  us  fixed  up  a  pup  tent  with  the  mess  sergeant.  We  put 
several  empty  sacks  on  the  ground  first  of  all,  covering  them 
with  three  wool  blankets,  leaving  three  more  for  cover. 

Just  before  mess  one  day  we  went  over  to  the  extra  fireplace 
dug  in  the  ground  to  get  a  large  boiler  of  coffee.  Before  we 
carried  it  thirty  feet  the  clouds  seemed  to  burst,  and  we  were 
soaked  to  the  skin  before  we  could  reach  cover.  Luckily  I  had 
extra  sox  and  underwear.  I  dried  my  shoes  as  well  as  I  could 
over  the  fireplace. 

Orders  came  for  us  to  move  towards  the  front  September  12th. 
The  company  left  about  nightfall,  followed  by  the  kitchen  about 
an  hour  later.  We  advanced  four  kilos  through  the  woods. 
The  mud  was  the  thickest  I  had  ever  seen.  After  a  few  hundred 
yards  we  would  stop  to  rest.  I  threw  myself  on  the^  ground  be- 
side the  road  to  get  a  wink  or  two  of  sleep  every  time  I  got  a 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY  31 


chance,  as  I  did  not  know  when  I  would  get  another  good  night's 
rest.  After  much  delay  we  found  our  location  in  the  woods  and 
darkness  and  rainfall.  We  unloaded  our  supplies  and  piled  them 
on  the  ground  under  the  large  canvas  cover  which  we  carried 
for  protecting  our  flour,  sugar,  and  such  provisions,  and  then 
went  dugout  hunting. 

I  found  our  officers  and  a  few  men  in  a  little  dugout.  They 
were  a  funny  sight  all  piled  in  there  together.  It  was  two 
o'clock  by  that  time.  I  used  my  helmet  as  a  chair,  because  the 
floor  was  very  damp,  told  the  gas  guard  to  call  me  at  four 
o'clock,  leaned  back  against  a  post,  and  slept  till  he  woke  me. 
We  had  to  keep  our  gas  masks  at  alert  all  the  time,  for  we  never 
knew  when  gas  shells  would  be  dropped  on  us. 

We  carried  the  cans  of  bacon  into  a  dugout,  where  we  used 
an  empty  box  as  a  cutting  table.  The  water  cart  had  gone  for 
water,  but  failed  to  return,  and  the  boys  did  not  get  any  coffee 
that  morning.  They  were  bitterly  disappointed,  as  there  is  no 
better  tonic  on  a  cold  morning  than  hot  coffee.  We  cut  the  bread 
by  the  flashes  of  the  big  guns,  which  were  throwing  a  terrific  bar- 
rage over  on  the  Boche.  Nevertheless,  we  had  to  be  very  care- 
ful with  our  fire  while  we  cooked  the  bacon.  We  covered  the 
firebox  with  wet  sacks. 

We  rested  all  that  day.  At  nightfall  the  company  was  order- 
ed forward  into  a  village  which  was  under  constant  shell  fire. 
The  kitchen  followed.  Two  of  us  were  left  behind  to  guard  the 
supplies  until  the  return  of  the  ration  cart  which  had  gone  to  the 
rear  to  draw  our  daily  allowance.  The  kitchen  had  gone  on 
when  the  ration  cart  reached  the  village,  so  the  driver  went  on 
in  the  wake  of  the  company  and  followed  it  around  while  the 
drive  was  on. 

Our  orders  were  to  stay  with  the  supplies  until  we  were  sent 
for,  so  we  stuck,  while  the  boys  went  ahead  and  helped  to  cap- 
ture Mont  Sec,  on  the  Toul  front.  The  Americans  surrounded 
the  hill,  forcing  the  Boche  to  evacuate.  Soon  after  they  captured 
a  little  village  a  long  train  rolled  in  bearing  several  carloads  of 
ammunition,  a  complete  brass  band,  and  several  carloads  of  re- 
enforcements  for  the  front  lines.  The  26th  Division  took  them 
all  prisoners  after  a  sharp  fight. 

In  the  meantime  my  pal  and  I  were  guarding  the  supplies  left 
in  our  charge.  After  waiting  all  day  for  the  ration  cart 
to  come  we  dined  on  bread  and  water.  I  tried  to  sleep  sitting 
on  a  box  of  corned  Willy,  with  a  couple  of  sacks  thrown  over 
my  shoulders,  but  the  night  was  too  cold.  The  next  morning 
we  discovered  the  most  comfortable  dugout  that  I  had  ever  been 
in,  containing  chairs,  tables,  bunks,  and  best  of  all,  a  large  fire- 
place with  a  large  exit  for  smoke. 

We  lost  no  time  moving  in  the  supplies,  which  included  45 
loaves  of  bread,  100  pounds  flour,  150  pounds  spuds,  fifty  pounds 
carrots,  50  pounds  of  bacon  fat  obtained  by  trying  out  our  bacon 


32  GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


before  the  kitchen  left,  sugar,  and  coffee.  Our  menu  that  day 
included  samples  of  about  everything,  and  we  wound  up  with 
hot  cakes  and  fried  bread. 

We  crawled  out  of  bed  the  next  morning  at  6:30,  and  soon 
had  some  spuds  peeled  and  fried  in  a  tremendous  frying  pan  we 
discovered  there.  We  did  not  care  how  hard  it  rained,  as  we 
had  plenty  of  wood  to  keep  the  fire  roaring. 

The  next  day,  Sunday,  turned  out  to  be  a  glorious  day.  We 
could  not  find  a  line  of  reading  matter  anywhere.  Newspapers 
were  scarcer  than  hen's  teeth.  We  rose  at  8 :30  that  morning, 
and  feasted  on  fried  spuds  and  toast,  washing  them  town  with 
most  excellent  Java.  We  had  everything  our  own  way,  going 
to  bed  and  getting  up  when  we  felt  like  it.  My  pal  was  lucky 
enough  to  pick  up  a  deck  of  cards  which  helped  us  to  pass  the 
time  away. 

We  spent  September  16  exploring  the  dugouts  in  the  vicinity. 
They  were  occupied  by  the  French  before  the  drive  commenced. 
One  of  the  dugouts  was  at  least  fifty  feet  deep  and  very  dark,  so 
that  we  had  to  feel  our  way  around  very  cautiously,  I  washed 
my  clothes  in  a  shell  hole  and  took  a  much  needed  bath,  after 
boiling  the  water  to  make  sure  there  was  no  gas  in  it. 

When  we  ran  out  of  drinking  water  we  hiked  four  kilos  to  the 
nearest  village  where  we  filled  our  canteens  and  a  couple  of  large 
cans.  We  found  a  company  of  engineers  laying  a  railroad  to- 
wards the  front,  on  which  supplies  and  ammunition  could  be 
carried  forward.  They  were  colored  troops,  and  a  happier  crowd 
was  nowhere  to  be  found.  Soon  after  we  returned  to  the 
dugout  my  throat  began  to  get  sore.  I  gargled  it  with  the  best 
thing  I  could  think  of — salt  and  water. 

Our  alarm  clock  had  not  yet  appeared,  so  we  slept  until  eleven 
the  next  morning.  We  needed  the  rest,  and  we  took  advantage 
of  the  opportunity.  The  rain  encouraged  us  to  stay  inside  where 
it  was  dry  and  warm.  Writing,  playing  cards  and  eating  kept 
us  busy.  We  had  not  seen  a  newspaper  for  a  week,  and  the 
only  news  we  had  received  of  anything  we  had  to  pry  from  roam- 
ing Frenchmen  we  met  while  strolling  in  the  woods. 

The  lieutenant  and  the  supply  sergeant  came  after  us  Septem- 
ber 19th.  We  loaded  the  supplies  which  were  left  on  the  ration 
cart.  All  the  bread  had  to  be  thrown  away  as  it  had  begun  to 
mold.  We  had  eaten  all  the  potatoes,  and  some  of  the  other 
stuff  would  have  been  used  up  if  we  had  stayed  there  much 
longer.  We  had  collected  a  number  of  souvenirs  in  the  dug- 
outs, but  the  lieutenant  was  angry  because  they  had  had  to  come 
after  us,  and  he  made  us  discard  everything  that  we  did  not 
really  need.  I  managed  to  smuggle  three  blankets  onto  the  cart 
when  he  was  not  looking.  He  made  us  carry  our  packs  on  our 
backs. 

We  left  all  the  soap  with  the  commissary  sergeant  in  the  near- 
est village.  When  the  lieutenant  went  ahead  on  horseback,  we 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY  33 


laid  our  packs  and  rifles  on  the  back  of  the  cart.  We  soon 
passed  the  old  front  line  trenches.  At  one  of  the  cross  roads  we 
saw  a  skull  lying  where  a  shell  had  disturbed  some  one's  grave. 
Quantities  of  Boche  equipment  which  had  been  thrown  away  dur- 
ing the  retreat  lay  alongside  the  road.  We  saw  graves  here  and 
there,  and  many  elaborate  dugouts  fitted  up  with  glass  windows 
by  the  Germans  during  their  long  stay.  They  used  large  sheets 
of  steel  which  they  struck  with  a  hammer  for  gas  alarms. 

In  one  village  we  found  a  party  of  Frenchmen  placing  an  ob- 
servation balloon  to  aid  in  keeping  tab  on  enemy  movements. 
In  another  village  we  learned  that  a  number  of  our  boys  had  been 
killed  there  the  day  before  by  a  shell.  They  were  working  on 
the  road  rilling  shell  holes  at  the  time. 

We  saw  a  Frenchman  washing  his  clothes  in  a  water  hole. 
He  seemed  to  be  contented  and  happy,  even  in  those  gloomy 
surroundings.  We  took  our  time  on  the  long  grade  just  be- 
yond, as  the  lieutenant  was  far  ahead.  Now  and  then  a  shell 
went  whizzing  over  our  heads  on  its  mission  of  death  and  de- 
struction. 

We  found  a  French  battery  around  the  turn  at  the  top  of  the 
hill  barking  away  at  the  Boche,  three  kilos  away.  They  had 
plenty  of  shells  piled  up  alongside  the  road.  Our  kitchen  stood 
near  by,  rather  scantily  camouflaged  amidst  the  trees.  The  mess 
sergeant  was  surprised  to  see  us.  After  a  hasty  meal  we  were 
sent  down  the  hill  again  with  the  water  tank.  We  soon  had 
the  tank  filled,  and  then  took  our  time  on  the  return  trip. 

We  pitched  our  tent  near  the  kitchen  that  night,  but  my  pal 
did  not  like  the  continual  booming  and  barking  of  the  guns, 
so  he  went  dugout  hunting  in  the  morning.  He  located  a  large 
dugout,  the  headquarters  of  our  regimental  band,  fifty  feet  under- 
ground, where  nothing  could  be  heard  except  the  explosion  of 
a  shell  near  the  entrance. 

I  stayed  outside  alone  several  nights,  but  I  began  to  get  a  little 
scared  myself  out  there  in  the  pup  tent  sometimes,  especially 
when  I  could  hear  the  motors  of  the  Boche  bombers  humming 
overhead,  and  I  began  to  wonder  how  I  would  look  if  they  drop- 
ped one  in  my  front  yard. 

We  were  about  two  kilos  from  the  front  lines.  From  our 
position  we  could  see  a  level  plain  about  six  kilos  wide,  half  of 
it  still  held  by  the  Boche.  We  could  see  Boche  ammunition 
factories  working  full  blast.  We  did  not  shell  them  because,  we 
did  not  want  to  kill  the  Belgain,  French,  and  American  prison- 
ers working  there. 

An  Austrain  88  gun  gave  us  a  lot  of  trouble.  We  could  not 
hear  the  shells  coming,  and  we  had  no  time  to  duck.  It  shelled 
the  woods  every  day,  remaining  quiet  for  a  while  and  then 
throwing  over  four  or  five  in  rapid  succession,  sending  us  scamp- 
ering to  whatever  shelter  we  could  find. 

One  day  while  I  was  busy  cutting  bacon,  and  the  company 


34  GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


was  lined  up  for  mess,  one  of  these  shells  landed  about  forty  feet 
from  the  kitchen.  It  did  not  explode  until  it  had  buried  itself 
in  the  ground,  and  the  dirt  went  straight  up  into  the  air.  No 
one  was  hurt.  When  the  dust  cleared  away  I  found  myself 
flat  on  the  ground.  The  place  was  deserted  in  about  three 
seconds. 

When  we  finally  served  the  meal  only  ten  men  were  allowed 
to  come  up  to  the  kitchen  at  a  time.  We  did  everything  we 
could  to  camouflage  our  smoke. 

High  explosive  shells  burst  overhead  frequently,  throwing 
out  buck  shot  in  all  directions.  A  piece  of  metal  missed  me 
just  five  feet  one  day.  I  had  replaced  the  cover  after  stirring 
the  stew  and  stepped  back,  when  bing !  said  piece  of  the  shell  hit 
the  cover  of  the  kettle.  Several  mules  were  killed  near  the 
kitchen  by  a  shell  which  dropped  among  them. 

Another  day,  soon  after  I  had  finished  taking  a  bath  out  of 
a  large  can,  a  large  shell  landed  where  I  had  been  for  the 
last  half  hour.  They  seemed  to  be  getting  the  range,  and  it  was 
not  long  before  we  were  ordered  up  closer  to  the  lines  where  we 
had  better  protection  and  a  dugout  in  which  to  sleep. 

After  packing  everything  onto  the  carts  we  moved  out  of  the 
protection  of  the  woods.  It  was  after  night,  and  the  road  was 
camouflaged  by  a  high  brush  fence,  so  that  the  Boche  could  not 
have  seen  us  from  their  lines.  The  most  dangerous  spot,  where 
shells  landed  frequently,  was  a  steep  grade  where  we  had  to 
block  the  wheels  with  long  poles  run  between  the  spokes. 
After  we  had  made  the  sharp  turn  at  the  bottom  in  safety,  the 
plateau  lay  before  us. 

(We  backed  the  kitchen  into  a  safe  place  and  unloaded  the 
supplies,  covering  the  kitchen  with  large  trees  to  scatter  the 
smoke.  The  next  job  was  a  trip  with  the  water  cart.  I  had 
to  walk  over  a  hundred  feet  through  mud  over  my  shoe  tops 
to  get  to  the  water,  and  I  had  to  feel  my  way  to  the  spring, 
the  night  was  so  dark. 

After  filling  the  coffee  boilers  from  the  tank,  we  looked 
around  the  dugout  for  quarters.  It  was  built  about  ten  feet 
under  the  surface  of  the  road,  with  several  passageways  run- 
ning out  of  it  to  other  dugouts.  It  must  have  been  the 
Boche  headquarters  in  that  sector.  Some  of  the  passages  were 
400  feet  long.  The  passage  running  to  the  Red  Cross  first  aid 
station  was  very  damp.  The  first  chance  I  had  the  next  morn- 
ing I  made  a  block  for  that  passage  out  of  a  large  potato  sack 
and  strips  of  wood. 

The  doorway  to  the  dugout  was  less  than  four  feet  high,  so 
we  had  to  almost  crawl  into  it.  By  night  I  had  everything 
fairly  comfortable.  I  had  a  box  to  sit  on  while  reading  or  writ- 
ing. "Canned  Heat"  provided  warmth.  For  a  bed  I  spread 
several  sacks  on  the  board  floor,  covered  them  with  one 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY  35 


blanket,  and  then  covered  myself  with  three  blankets  and  my 
rain  coat. 

I  never  undressed  at  night,  for  we  never  knew  what  minute 
we  would  be  routed  out  by  a  gas  alarm  or  orders  to  move. 
I  kept  my  gas  mask  and  helmet  right  by  my  head  ready  for 
instant  use  at  all  times.  The  company  was  scattered  along 
the  lines  in  platoons,  each  of  which  sent  a  food  detail  for  each 
meal,  provided  the  shell  fire  did  not  prevent.  The  food  was 
carried  as  usual  in  large  cans. 

I  was  up  against  it  for  cans  until  I  made  some  out  of  10 
pound  bacon  tins,  hammering  down  the  rough  edges  at  the 
top  so  the  boys  would  not  cut  their  hands.  I  fitted  each  can 
with  a  handle  made  out  of  heavy  wire.  I  kept  plenty  of  boil- 
ing hot  water,  very  soapy,  for  washing  the  cans,  and  towels 
to  wipe  them  dry.  We  used  all  the  flour  and  sugar  sacks  for 
towels. 

We  made  doughnuts  whenever  we  could  get  the  flour,  some 
days  three  of  four  for  each  boy.  The  bread  came  in  5  pound 
loaves,  enough  for  ten  boys.  We  served  jam  when  we  got 
enough  to  go  around. 

The  plateau  was  a  grand  sight  in  the  daytime,  when  we 
could  see  everything  that  was  going  on.  There  was  a  con- 
crete pill  box  on  top  of  our  dugout  which  must  have  held  a 
machine  gun  or  two  during  the  drive.  A  big  vegetable  gar- 
den near  by  was  visited  every  night  by  some  of  the  boys. 
The  Boche  must  have  been  wise,  for  he  plowed  the  place 
every  night  with  all  kinds  of  shells.  I  could  hear  the  shells 
coming  from  the  inside  of  the  dugout,  and  they  always  seem- 
ed to  be  coming  straight  for  me. 

On  clear  days  we  could  see  dozens  of  aeroplanes,  many  of 
them  maneuvering  to  get  pictures  of  any  place  that  looked 
different  or  suspicious.  Our  anti-aircraft  guns  were  always 
barking  away  at  them,  and  once  in  a  while  we  sent  them  back 
in  a  hurry.  We  had  to  keep  on  the  watch  for  planes,  and  keep 
well  under  the  trees  so  that  we  would  not  be  seen. 

The  country  was  well  nigh  desolate.  None  of  the  farmers 
had  come  back.  For  weeks  I  did  not  hear  or  see  anything  of 
a  cow  or  a  hen.  How  I  longed  to  hear  a  rooster  crow  again! 

We  found  an  elaborate  power  station  in  one  dugout,  from 
which  the  Boche  had  provided  electricity  for  lights  in  differ- 
ent places,  through  power  lines  running  along  the  ground. 
I  woke  up  one  morning  with  an  itch  which  I  blamed  on  the 
cooties,  but  the  Doc  said  I  had  the  German  itch.  I  believed 
him.  A  day  or  so  later  I  developed  a  large  boil  behind  my 
ear  down  there  in  our  Half  Way  to  Hell  Hotel,  and  after  the 
Doc  finished  lancing  said  boil  I  had  another  count  against 
the  Boche. 

I  found  my  glasses  broken  the  morning  of  October  2nd.  My  pal 
must  have  stepped  on  my  blouse  while  I  was  asleep.  I 


36  GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


managed  to  find  time  the  next  day  to  wash  all  my  clothes  and 
take  a  much  needed  bath.  The  next  day  was  one  to  remember, 
for  a  K.  C.  man  came  around  and  gave  us  cigarettes,  tobacco, 
and  chocolate,  free  of  charge.  fThere  was  no  Y.  M.  C.  A.  near 
us. 

October  6th  I  woke  up  with  sharp  pains  in  the  muscles 
above  my  knee.  The  Doc  gave  me  aspirin  tablets  to  take 
every  four  hours  and  told  me  to  rest  a  while.  The  weather 
was  very  cold.  The  next  day  I  was  no  better,  hardly  able  to 
crawl  around  and  pack  up  my  belongings  before  the  ambu- 
lance arrived  to  take  me  to  the  hospital.  Every  seat  was 
taken  by  men  who  had  been  wounded  or  gassed,  and  I  had  to 
stand  on  one  foot,  trying  to  save  my  bum  leg.  The  pain 
was  terrible. 

The  road  seemed  all  shell  holes,  and  every  little  while  a 
shell  or  two  whizzed  by  overhead  to  give  the  engineers  some 
more  trouble  on  down  the  road.  We  found  the  first  aid  station 
nice  and  warm.  It  was  located  in  a  half-ruined  church. 
They  examined  me  carefully  and  sent  me  on  in  another  am- 
bulance. jThe  boys  who  had  been  burned  by  gas  were  put  on 
tables  and  scrubbed  with  hot  water  to  relieve  the  pain.  All 
my  equipment  was  left  on  a  salvage  pile. 

The  ride  to  the  field  hospital  was  made  with  great  difficulty, 
on  account  of  the  heavy  rain.  We  skidded  from  one  side  of 
the  road  to  the  other  and  back  again,  but  we  finally  arrived 
without  any  upsets.  After  a  good  sleep  that  night  I  rode 
twenty  kilos  further  to  Evacuation  Hospital  No.  6,  near  the 
old  Verdun  front. 

It  was  a  clear  day.  I  managed  to  get  the  end  seat  so  that 
I  could  ease  my  leg  from  the  continual  jarring.  We  passed 
through  the  old  Boche  artilery  positions,  all  of  which  had  been 
well  camouflaged,  where  equipment  lay  in  heaps  alongside  the 
road.  I  saw  a  number  of  soldiers  in  one  large  village  which 
had  either  escaped  destruction  or  had  been  repaired  quickly. 
The  road  was  smooth  after  this,  and  we  made  a  good  forty 
miles  an  hour  for  a  while.  We  passed  by  a  camouflaged  fence 
at  least  five  kilos  long.  The  road  here  could  be  seen  twenty 
miles  away  on  a  clear  day  from  the  Boche  observation  balloons. 
Soon  after  passing  a  French  hospital  we  arrived  at  our  des- 
tination. 

I  was  able  to  walk  into  the  hospital  along  with  a  number 
of  our  wounded,  besides  a  bunch  of  German  and  Austrain 
wounded.  Most  of  the  stretcher  bearers  were  prisoners.  They 
were  very  careful  in  handling  all  litter  cases,  as  many  of  them 
were  very  badly  wounded.  They  took  down  all  my  history 
and  then  assigned  me  to  a  ward.  The  bed  was  the  softest 
I  had  seen  in  France. 

My  company  was  nearly  wiped  out  soon  after  I  left  it  by 
machine  gun  fire.  While  in  the  hospital  I  learned  that  only 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY  37 


eight  men  were  left.  I  saw  300  aeroplanes  go  over  that  day. 
They  were  flying  in  V-shaped  battle  formation,  and  certainly 
must  have  made  a  big  hole  in  the  Boche  morale.  The  man 
who  can  face  an  aeroplane  flying  at  him  with  a  machine  gun 
firing  three  hundred  bullets  a  minute  without  running  for  a 
dugout  is  decidedly  rare.  A  moving  aeroplane  is  very  hard  to 
hit,  and  it  takes  a  direct  hit  to  damage  them. 

I  was  sent  to  Base  Hospital  26  October  nth,  where  an  X-ray 
showed  pus  pockets  on  my  leg,  caused  by  some  injury,  they  told  me. 
They  cut  into  the  pus  pockets  October  iQth,  and  inserted  a  row  of 
drainage  tubes.  I  was  in  bed  there  until  November  2Oth,  when  I 
was  carried  aboard  an  American  Red  Cross  train.  I  was  glad  when 
I  saw  it  was  American,  because  the  French  carried  wounded  in  box 
cars  and  gave  little  or  no  attention  to  a  man  who  could  not  take  care 
of  himself. 

I  stayed  three  and  one-half  months  in  Base  Hospital  8  at  Savenay. 
I  went  through  "Marble  Hall"  (the  operating  room)  twice.  When 
we  were  told  the  armistice  had  been  signed  all  I  could  do  was  shed 
a  few  tears,  for  I  was  flat  on  my  back  and  nearly  all  my  pals  were 
dead. 

Fortunately  I  had  a  little  money  with  me.  The  French  woman  in 
charge  of  the  diet  kitchen  bought  eggs  for  me  in  the  village,  at  six 
francs  a  dozen.  We  feasted  on  roast  ruck,  mashed  potatoes,  pud- 
ding, bread,  and  coffee,  Thanksgiving  Day.  Usually  corn  meal  mush 
was  all  we  got  for  breakfast,  and  the  eggs  were  a  great  help.  Once 
in  a  while  we  had  corned  beef  hash,  and  then  I  always  wanted  sec- 
onds. 

I  received  no  mail  for  three  months,  although  I  notified  my  or- 
ganization and  the  main  postoffice.  The  first  letter  I  received  came 
February  2nd.  It  was  dated  October  5th. 

I  was  operated  on  for  the  third  time  February  7th.  They  gave 
me  gas  at  first  and  then  ether  to  make  me  sleep  a  long  while.  They 
scraped  the.  bone,  and  cut  away  a  lot  of  decayed  bone  and  a  growth 
around  the  bone. 

February  I4th  a  sergeant  looked  me  up  to  see  how  I  was  getting 
along.  Apparently  the  folks  were  not  receiving  my  mail,  either. 
Three  days  later  the  nurse  from  another  ward  where  I  had  been 
several  weeks  brought  me  thirty-three  letters  which  had  been  loop- 
ing the  loop,  some  of  them  for  five  months. 

While  lying  in  bed  in  the  hospital  I  made  a  great  many  souvenirs 
and  useful  articles.  I  made  a  table  mat  out  of  string,  and  followed 
that  with  a  "Lazy  Squaw''  (basket),  a  most  appropriate  name,  con- 
sidering the  time  I  spent  on  it.  The  more  I  tried  to  strengthen  it 
the  more  lop-sided  it  became.  The  Red  Cross  furnished  us  with 
a  number  of  one  pounder  shells  on  which  we  painted  various  de- 
signs. We  gave  our  first  efforts  to  the  Red  Cross.  I  painted  a 
caduceus  on  mine.  I  sent  the  next  one  to  my  uncle. 

February  28th  the  Doc  said  I  must  try  to  get  up  and  walk  around 
on  cruthes.  The  orderly  helped  me  lower  my  leg  to  the  floor  and 


38  GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY 


to  stand  up.  I  had  been  in  bed  five  months.  How  my  feet  did  burn ! 
I  did  not  walk  any  that  day,  but  the  next  day  I  got  to  the  next  bed 
without  a  tumble,  and  in  a  little  while  I  was  down  to  the  end  of  the 
ward. 

I  left  the  hospital  March  7th  for  St.  Nazaire,  where  we  boarded 
the  transport  for  the  States.  We  had  the  first  real  mush,  rolled  oats, 
for  breakfast  at  St.  Nazaire,  that  I  had  seen  in  months.  H]ow  tired 
I  was  of  that  corn  meal  mixed  with  water ! 

Hundreds  of  soldiers  were  boarding  the  transports.  I  saw  many 
prisoners  working  about  the  port.  For  some  reason  all  the  French, 
both  men  and  women,  seemed  to  be  in  a  great  hurry,  and  moved 
around  on  the  jump.  I  rode  to  the  dock  in  an  ambulance.  They 
took  my  papers  at  the  checking  station  and  up  the  gang  plank  I  went. 

I  was  assigned  to  an  upper  bunk  where  I  had  plenty  of  room  to 
move  around.  The  food  was  excellent.  I  made  away  with  my 
share,  all  right,  as  I  had  been  without  proper  food  so  long. 

At  10:30  a.m.,  March  Qth,  the  band  struck  up  a  lively  tune,  the 
anchor  was  pulled  aboard,  and  we  started  down  the  canal  toward 
the  open  sea.  The  banks  were  lined  with  little  Frogs  who  scrambled 
eagerly  for  the  pennies  and  cigarettes  thrown  to  them  by  the  boys 
on  the  decks.  Even  the  smallest  of  them,  not  over  five  years  old, 
were  crazy  for  the  smokes,  and  puffed  away  contentedly  when  they 
got  a  light. 

I  managed  to  take  in  some  of  the  scenery  through  the  port  hole. 
We  were  soon  out  on  the  briny  deep,  and  I  was  on  my  way  to  see 
the  Girl  1  left  behind  me,  more  popularly  known  as  the  Statue  of 
Liberty.  The  first  day  a  lieutenant  came  around  exchanging  some 
of  the  real  stuff  for  our  French  money.  I  had  fifteen  francs  left  to 
turn  in.  They  passed  out  mince  pie  as  a  little  hint  of  what  was  com- 
ing, and  it  did  not  take  me  long  to  get  acquainted  with  it  again. 

The  sea  was  rough  all  night,  so  I  did  not  sleep  much.  The  Red 
Cross  man  brought  a  graphaphone  into  our  compartment.  That 
music  was  certainly  grand.  They  brought  us  something  extra  every 
day,  fruit  or  chocolate  or  tobacco. 

March  i6th  I  found  my  bunk  too  narrow  and  moved  up  on  deck, 
where  I  threw  all  my  worries  overboard.  I  found  a  box  to  sit  on 
while  I  took  in  a  little  ocean  scenery.  We  celebrated  St.  Patrick's 
Day  by  starting  off  with  bacon,  eggs,  mush,  bread,  coffee,  and  or- 
anges. 

The  next  day  we  lost  six1  hours  when  the  ship  sprang  a  leak  and 
the  fires  were  put  out  in  the  engine  room  by  the  water  rushing  in. 
The  hole  was  plugged  at  last,  the  water  pumped  out,  and  we  went 
merrily  on  our  way,  making  port  on  the  2Oth.  We  were  taken  off 
in  a  driving  rain.  The  first  people  to  greet  us  were  the  Red  Cross 
women  with  baskets  of  sweets. 

I  rode  in  an  ambulance  to  Camp  Stewart,  Virginia,  where,  as  soon 
as  I  got  the  chance,  I  downed  five  dishes  of  ice  cream  at  the  Red 
Cross  house.  After  a  good  dinner  I  went  to  bed.  I  had  a  lot  of 


GOING  AND  COMING  AS  A  DOUGHBOY  39 


dental  work  done  there.  They  pulled  off  all  my  bridge  work  and 
yanked  out  two  badly  decayed  roots. 

We  started  on  the  last  lap  of  the  long  journey  back  to  the  Golden 
West  on  the  last  day  of  March.  The  food  on  the  train  was  of  the 
best,  bacon  and  eggs  every  morning  with  several  other  things  thrown 
in.  We  were  allowed  seventy-five  cents  a  meal  while  traveling. 
Nearly  every  town  and  city  had  some  treat  waiting  for  us.  Bakers- 
field  gave  us  a  lot  of  fine  oranges.  The  reception  at  Fresno  was 
great.  The  eats  included  ice  cream,  jello,  fruit,  and  the  famous 
Fresno  raisins. 

I  tried  to  phone  my  folks  from  the  Oakland  Pier,  but  Central  was 
asleep  or  worse.  That  was  about  midnight.  After  breakfast  the 
next  morning  the  lieutenant  gave  each  of  us  $6.85,  the  amount  due 
us  from  our  ration  allowance.  We  were  met  at  the  train  by  am- 
bulances, which  took  us  across  the  bay  on  the  nine  o'clock  ferry, 
and  landed  us  at  Letterman  General  Hospital  in  short  order. 

After  several  X-ray  and  culture  tests  the  clinic  prescribed  mas- 
sage. I  needed  it  all  right,  as  there  was  practically  no  play  or  bend 
in  my  knee.  While  in  Ward  26  (we  called  it  the  dugout)  I  spent 
my  time  studying  spelling,  arithmetic,  grammar,  shorthand,  typing, 
and  Spanish,  besides  making  bead  chains  and  baskets  which  brought 
me  some  extra  dollars.  I  had  twenty-two  chains  at  one  sale  at  the 
White  House. 

I  wrote  a  little  nearly  every  night  on  this  story,  and  managed  to 
keep  very  busy  all  the  time.  There  were  many  opportunities  for 
amusement  and  recreation,  moving  pictures  and  vaudeville  at  the 
American  Red  Cross  house  and  outdoors,  as  well  as  chances  to  go 
on  auto  rides  and  to  shows  down  town.  When  things  got  a  little 
tiresome  one  or  more  of  our  friends  always  came  along  with  a  pic- 
nic, and  many  people  came  to  see  us  afternoons. 

I  was  glad  to  be  so  near  the  folks,  so  I  could  run  home  now  and 
then  for  a  good  home-cooked  dinner. 

(Au  Revoir.) 

PVT,  ELMER  H.  CURTISS, 

Co.  H,  102  Infty. 


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